LIB  R.AR.Y 

OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY 
OF    ILLINOIS 

317,7 


ILLiNQiS  HISTORICAL  SURffif 


THEFARWE 


E  S  T: 

r  / '"r~ -'i 


OK, 


A  TOUR  BEYOND  THE  MOUNTAINS. 


EMBRACING 

OUTLINES    OP   WESTERN   LIFE   AND    SCENERY;    SKETCHES    OF 

THE    PRAIRIES,    RIVERS,    ANCIENT   MOUNDS,    EARLY 

SETTLEMENTS    OP    THE    FRENCH,    ETC.,    ETC. 


"If  thou  be  a  severe,  sour-complexioned  man,  then  I  here  disallow  thee  to 
be  a  competent  judge." — IZAAK  WALTON. 

"  I  pity  the  man  who  can  travel  from  Dan  to  Beershcba,  and  cry,  '  Tis  all 
barren.'"— STERNZ. 

"  Chacun  a  son  stile ;  le  mien,  comme  vous  voyez,  n'est  pas  laconique."— 
ME.  DE  SEVIGNE. 


IN     TWO     VOLUMES. 

VOL.   I. 

NEW-YORK: 
PUBLISHED  BY  HARPER  &  BROTHERS, 

NO.     82     CLIFF-STREET. 
1838. 


[Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1838,' by 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS, 
in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  Southern  District  of  New-York,] 


Far    - 

v,/ 


TO    O NE- 
AT WHOSE  SOLICITATION  THESE  VOLUMES  WERE  COM- 
MENCED,  AND   WITH  WHOSE   ENCOURAGEMENT 
THEY  HAVE   BEEN  COMPLETED 

TO    MY    SISTER  LUCY 

ARE    THEY    AFFECTIONATELY    INSCRIBED. 


TO   THE   READER. 


"  He  that  writes 

Or  makes  a  feast,  more  certainly  invites 
His  judges  than  his  friends  ;  there's  not  a  guest 
But  will  find  something  wanting  or  ill  dress'd." 

IN  laying  before  the  majesty  of  the  public  a 
couple  of  volumes  like  the  present,  it  has  become 
customary  for  the  author  to  disclaim  in  his  preface 
all  original  design  of  perpetrating  a  book,  as  if 
there  were  even  more  than  the  admitted  quantum 
of  sinfulness  in  the  act.  Whether  or  not  such  dis- 
vowals  now-a-day  receive  all  the  credence  they 
merit,  is  not  for  the  writer  to  say ;  and  whether, 
were  the  prefatory  asseveration,  as  in  the  present 
case,  diametrically  opposed  to  what  it  often  is,  the 
reception  would  be  different,  is  even  more  difficult 
to  predict.  The  articles  imbodied  in  the  following 
volumes  were,  a  portion  of  them,  in  their  original, 
hasty  production,  designed  for  the  press ;  yet  the 
author  unites  in  the  disavowal  of  his  predecessors 
of  all  intention  at  that  time  of  perpetrating  a  book. 

In  the  early  summer  of  '36,  when  about  starting 
upon  a  ramble  over  the  prairies  of  the  "  Far  West," 
in  hope  of  renovating  the  energies  of  a  shattered  con- 
stitution, a  request  was  made  of  the  writer,  by  the 
distinguished  editor  of  the  Louisville  Journal,  to  con- 

VOL.  I.— A     ' 


VI  PREFACE. 

tribute  to  the  columns  of  that  periodical  whatever, 
in  the  course  of  his  pilgrimage,  might  be  deemed  of 
sufficient  interest.  A  series  of  articles  soon  after 
made  their  appearance  in  that  paper  under  the  title, 
"  Sketches  of  a  Traveller.''1  They  were,  as  their 
name  purports,  mere  sketches  from  a  traveller's 
portfeuille,  hastily  thrown  upon  paper  whenever 
time,  place,  or  opportunity  rendered  convenient ; 
in  the  steamboat  saloon,  the  inn  bar-room,  the  log- 
cabin  of  the  wilderness,  or  upon  the  venerable 
mound  of  the  Western  prairie.  With  such  fa- 
vour were  these  hasty  productions  received,  and  so 
extensively  were  they  circulated,  that  the  writer, 
on  returning  from  his  pilgrimage  to  "  the  shrine  of 
health,"  was  induced,  by  the  solicitations  of  partial 
friends,  to  enter  at  his  leisure  upon  the  preparation 
for  the  press  of  a  mass  of  MSS.  of  a  similar  char- 
acter, written  at  the  time,  which  had  never  been 
published ;  a  thorough  revision  and  enlargement 
of  that  which  had  appeared,  united  with  this,  it  was 
thought,  would  furnish  a  passable  volume  or  two 
upon  the  "  Far  West."  Two  years  of  residence  in 
the  West  have  since  passed  away  ;  and  the  ar- 
rangement for  the  press  of  the  fugitive  sheets  of  a 
wanderer's  sketch-book  would  not  yet,  perhaps, 
have  been  deemed  of  sufficient  importance  to  war- 
rant the  necessary  labour,  had  he  not  been  daily  re- 
minded that  his  productions,  whatever  their  merit, 
were  already  public  property  so  far  as  could  be  the 
case,  and  at  the  mercy  of  every  one  who  thought 
proper  to  asume  paternity.  "  Forbearance  ceased  to 
be  longer  a  virtue,"  and  the  result  is  now  before  the 


PREFACE.  Vll 

reader.  But,  while  alluding  to  that  aid  which  his 
labours  may  have  rendered  to  others,  the  author 
would  not  fail  fully  to  acknowledge  his  own  in« 
debtedness  to  those  distinguished  writers  upon  the 
West  who  have  preceded  him.  To  Peck,  Hall, 
Flint,  Wetmore,  and  to  others,  his  acknowledg- 
ments are  due  and  are  respectfully  tendered. 

In  extenuation  of  the  circumstance  {hat  some 
portions  of  these  volumes  have  already  appeared, 
though  in  a  crude  state,  before  the  public,  the  au- 
thor has  but  to  suggest  that  many  works,  with 
which  the  present  will  not  presume  to  compare, 
have  made  their  debut  on  the  unimposing  pages  of 
a  periodical.  Not  to  dwell  upon  the  writings  of 
Addison  and  Johnson,  and  other  classics  of  British 
literature,  several  of  Bulwer's  most  polished  pro- 
ductions, the  elaborate  Essays  of  Elia,  Wirt's  Brit- 
ish Spy,  Hazlitt's  Philosophical  Reviews,  Cole- 
ridge's Friend,  most  of  the  novels  of  Captain  Mar- 
ryatt  and  Theodore  Hook,  and  many  of  the  most 
elegant  works  of  the  day,  have  been  prepared  for 
the  pages  of  a  magazine. 

And  now,  with  no  slight  misgiving,  does  the  au- 
thor commit  his  firstborn  bantling  to  the  tender 
mercies  of  an  impartial  public.  Criticism  he  does 
not  deprecate,  still  less  does  he  brave  it ;  and  far- 
ther than  either  is  he  from  soliciting  undue  favour. 
Yet  to  the  reader,  as  he  grasps  him  by  the  hand  in 
parting,  would  he  commit  his  book,  with  the  quaint 
injunction  of  a  distinguished  but  eccentric  old  Eng- 
lish writer  upon  an  occasion  somewhat  similar : 

"  I  exhort  all  people,  gentle  and  simple,  men, 


Vlll  PREFACE. 

women,  and  children,  to  buy,  to  read,  to  extol  these 
labours  of  mine.  Let  them  not  fear  to  defend  every 
article ;  for  I  will  bear  them  harmless.  I  have  ar- 
guments good  store,  and  can  easily  confute,  either 
logically,  theologically,  or  metaphysically,  all  those 
who  oppose  me." 

:,.,  E.P/ 

New- York,  Oct.,  1838. 


CONTENTS. 


i.       ••-*? 

The  Western  Steamboat-landing. — Western  Punctuality. — An 
Accident. — Human  Suffering. — Desolation  of  Bereavement, — 
A  Contrast. — Sublimity. — An  Ohio  Freshet. — View  of  Louis- 
ville.— Early  History. — The  Ohio  Falls. — Corn  Island. — The 
Last  Conflict Page  13-21 

IL 

The  Early  Morn.— "Sleep  no  more !"— The  Ohio.— "La  Belle 
Riviere."— Ohio  Islands.— A  Cluster  at  Sunset.— "Ohio  Hills." 
— The  Emigrant's  Clearing. — Moonlight  on  the  Ohio. — A  Sun- 
set-scene.— The  Peaceful  Ohio. — The  Gigantic  Forest-trees. — 
The  Bottom-lands.  —  Obstructions  to  Navigation.  —  Classifi- 
cation.— Removal. — Dimensions  of  Snags. — Peculiar  difficulties 
on  the  Ohio. — Leaning  Trees. — Stone  Dams. — A  Full  Survey. 
—The  Result  .  .  .  •<;£  \  L:u»avLi'--.iLW-1.  21-28 

III. 

An  Arrest. — Drift-wood. — Ohio  Scenery. — Primitive  River-craft. 
— Early  Scenes  on  the  Western  Waters. — The  Boatmen. — 
Life  and  Character. — Annus  Mirabilis. — The  Steam-engine  in 
the  West.— The  Freshet.— The  Comet.— The  Earthquakes.— 
The  first  Steamboat. — The  Pinelore. — The  Steam-engine. — 
Prophecy  of  Darwin. — Results. — Sublimity. — Villages. — A  new 
Geology. — Rivers. — Islands. — Forests. — The  Wabash  and  its 
Banks. — New  Harmony. — Site. — Settlement. — Edifices. — Gar- 
dens.— Owen  and  the  "Social  System." — Theory  and  Practice. 
— Mental  Independence. — Dissension. — Abandonment. — Shaw- 
neetown. — Early  History. — Settlement. — Advancement. — Site. 
— United  States'  Salines. — Ancient  Pottery  .  .  29-39 

IV. 

Geology  of  the  Mississippi  Valley. — Ohio  Cliffs. — The  Iron  Coffin. 
— "  Battery  Rock."—"  Rock-Inn-Cave."— Origin  of  Name.— 
A2 


X  CONTENTS. 

A  Visit. — Outlines  and  Dimensions. — The  Indian  Manito. — 
Island  opposite.  —  The  Freebooters.  —  "  The  Outlaw."  —  The 
Counterfeiters. — Their  Fate. — Ford  and  his  Gang.— Retributive 
Justice. — "  Tower  Rock." — The  Tradition. — The  Cave  of  Hie- 
roglyphics. —  Islands.  —  Golconda. — The  Cumberland.  — Aaron 
Burr's  Island. — Paducah. — Name. — Ruins  of  Fort  Massac. — 
The  Legend.— Wilkinsonville.— The  "  Grand  Chain."— Cale- 
donia.—A  Storm.— Sunset.— "  The  Meeting  of  the  Waters." 
— Characteristics  of  the  Rivers. — "  Willow  Point." — The  place 
of  Meeting. —  Disappointment. —  A  Utopian  City. —  America 

Page  40-50 

V. 

Darkness  Visible.— The  "  Father  of  Waters."— The  Power  of 
Steam.— The  Current.—"  English  Island."— The  Sabbath.— A 
Blessed  Appointment. — Its  Quietude. — The  New-England  Emi- 
grant.— His  Privations. — Sorrows. — Loneliness. — "  The  Light 
of  Home." — Cape  Girardeau. — Site. — Settlement. — Effects  of 
the  Earthquakes.— A  severer  Shock. — Staples  of  Trade. — The 
Spiral  Water-wheels.— Their  Utility.— "  Tyowapity  Bottom." 
— Potter's  Clay. — A  Manufactory. — Riviere  au  Vase. — Salines. 
—Coal-beds.— "  Fountain  Bluff."— The  "Grand  Tower."— 
Parapet  of  Limestone. — Ancient  Cataract. — The  Cliffs. — Di- 
vinity of  the  Boatmen. — The  "  Devil's  Oven." — The  "  Tea-ta- 
ble."— Volcanic  and  Diluvial  Action. — The  Torrent  overcome. 
—A  Race.— Breathless  Interest.— The  Engineer.— The  Fire- 
man.— Last  of  the  "  Horse  and  Alligator"  species. — "  Charon. "" 
—A  Triumph.— A  Defeat 51-63 

VI. 

Navigation  of  the  Mississippi. — The  First  Appropriation. — Im- 
provements of  Capt.  Shreve. — Mississippi  and  Ohio  Scenery 
contrasted. — Alluvial  Deposites. — Ste.  Genevieve. — Origin. — 
Site. — The  Haunted  Ruin. — The  old  "  Common  Field." — Inun- 
dation of  '85,  —  Minerals.  —  Quarries.  —  Sand-caves.  —  Fount- 
ains.—  Salines. —  Indians. — Ancient  Remains. — View  of  Ste. 
Genevieve. — Landing. — Outrage  of  a  Steamer. — Indignation. — 
The  Remedy. — A  Snag  and  a  Scene. — An  interview  with  "  Cha- 
ron."—Fort  Chartres  .-,.'  t>  5Ty.i,.5./v.  .  63-72 

r 


CONTENTS.  XI 

VII. 

The  Hills  !  the  Hills  !—  Trosachs  of  Loch  Katrine.—  Alluvial  Ac- 
tion.— Bluffs  of  Selma  and  Herculaneum. — Shot-towers. — Nat- 
ural Curiosities. — The  "  Cornice  Cliffs." — The  Merrimac. — Its 
Riches. — Ancient  Lilliputian  Graves. — Mammoth  Remains. — 
Jefferson  Barracks. — Carondelet. — Cahokia. — U.  S.  Arsenal. — 
St.  Louis  in  the  Distance. — Fine  View. — Uproar  of  the  Landing. 
— The  Eternal  River. — Character. —  Features. — Sublimity. — 
Statistics.— The  Lower  Mississippi. — "  Bends." — "  Cut-offs." — 
Land-slips. — The  Pioneer  Cabin  "  ^';  '.'  »C  ."/•  Pag6  73-83 

VIII. 

"  Once  more  upon  the  Waters  !" — "Uncle  Sam's  Tooth-pullers." 
— Mode  of  eradicating  a  Snag. — River  Suburbs  of  North  St. 
Louis. — Spanish  Fortifications. — The  Waterworks. — The  An- 
cient Mounds. — Country  Seats. — The  Confluence. — Charlevoix's 
Description. — A  Variance. — A  View. — The  Upper  Mississippi^ 
— Alton  in  distant  View. — The  Penitentiary  and  Churches. — 
"  Pomp  and  Circumstance." — The  City  of  Alton. — Advantages. 
— Objections. — Improvements. — Prospects. — Liberality. — Rail- 
roads.—Alton  Bluffs.—"  Departing  Day."— The  Piasa  Cliffs.— 
Moonlight  Scene  .  .  .  .  .,.-..:.-....  84-93 

IX. 

The  Coleur  de  Rose. — The  Piasa. — The  Indian  Legend. — Caverns. 
— Human  Remains. — The  Illinois. — Characteristic  Features. — 
The  Canal. — The  Banks  and  Bottoms.— Poisonous  Exhalations. 
— Scenes  on  the  Illinois. — The  "  Military  Bounty  Tract." — Cap* 
&u  Gris.— Old  French  Village.— River  Villages.— Pekin.— 
"An  Unco  Sight." — Genius  of  the  Bacchanal. — A  "Monkey 
Show." — Nomenclature  of  Towns. — The  Indian  Names  93-1 03 

X. 

An  Emigrant  Farmer. — An  Enthusiast. — Peoria. — The  Old  Village 
and  the  New. — Early  History. — Exile  of  the  French. — Fort 
Clarke.— Indian  Hostilities.— The  Modern  Village.— Site.— Ad- 
vantages.— Prospects. — Lake  Pinatahwee. — Fish.— The  Bluffs 
and  Prairie.— A  Military  Spectacle.— The  "Helen  Mar."— Hor- 
rors of  Steam! — A  Bivouac. — The  Dragoon  Corps. — Military 


Xll  CONTENTS. 

Courtesy. —  "Starved  Rock." — The  Legend.  —  Remains. — 
Shells. — Intrenchments. — Music. — The  Moonlight  Serenade. — 
A  Reminiscence  .  .  ,.  •  .  B  ,,,.--  .  Page  104-114 

XL 

Delay. — "  A'Horse  !" — Early  French  Immigration  in  the  West. — 
The  Villages  of  the  Wilderness. — St.  Louis. — Venerable  As- 
pect.—Site  of  the  City.— A  French  Village  City.— South  St. 
Louis. — The  Old  Chateaux. — The  Founding  of  the  City. — The 
Footprints  in  the  Rock. — The  First  House. — Name  of  the  City. 
— Decease  of  the  Founders. — Early  Annals. — Administration  of 
St.  Ange. — The  Common  Field. — Cession  and  Recession. — 
"ISAnnee  du  Grand  Coup." — "  U Annee  des  Grandes  Eaux." 
— Keel-boat  Commerce. — The  Robbers  Culburt  and  Magilbray. 
— "  IS  Annee  des  Bateaux." — The  First  Steamboat  at  St.  Louis. 
— Wonder  of  the  Indians. — Opposition  to  Improvement. — Plan 
of  St.  Louis. — A  View. — Spanish  Fortifications. — The  Ancient 
Mounds. —  Position. —  Number. —  Magnitude. —  Outlines. — Ar- 
rangement.—  Character.  —  Neglect. — Moral  Interest. — Origin. 
— The  Argument  of  Analogy 114-133 

XII. 

View  from  the  "  Big  Mound"  at  St.  Louis. — The  Sand-bar. — The 
Remedy.— The  "  Floating  Dry-dock."— The  Western  Suburbs. 
— Country  Seats. — Game. — Lakes. — Public  Edifices. — Catho- 
lic Religion. — "  Cathedral  of  St.  Luke." — Site. — Dimensions. — 
Peal  of  Bells. — Porch. — The  Interior. — Columns. — Window 
Transparencies. — The  Effect. — The  Sanctuary. — Galleries. — 
Altar-piece. —  Altar  and  Tabernacle. —  Chapels. — Paintings. — 
Lower  Chapel. — St.  Louis  University. — Medical  School. — The 
Chapel. —  Paintings. —  Library. —  Ponderous  Volumes. — Philo- 
sophical Apparatus. — The  Pupils  ....  134-142 

xpi. 

An  Excursion  of  Pleasure. — A  fine  Afternoon. — Our  Party. — 
The  Bridal  Pair. — South  St.  Louis. — Advantages  for  Manufac- 
tures.— Quarries. — Farmhouses. — The  "Eagle  Powder-works." 
— Explosion. — The  Bride. — A  Steeple-chase. — A  Descent. — 
The  Arsenal. — Grounds. — Structures. — Esplanade. — Ordnance. 
—  Warlike  Aspect.  —  Carondelet.  —  Sleepy-Hollow.  —  River- 


CONTENTS.  Xlll 

reach. — Time  Departed. — Inhabitants. — Structures. — Gardens. 
— Orchards. — Cabarets. — The  Catholic  Church. — Altar-piece. 
— Paintings.  —  Missal.  —  Crucifix.  —  Evergreens.  —  Deaf  and 
Dumb  Asylum. — Distrust  of  Villagers. — Jefferson  Barracks. — 
Site. — Extent. — Buildings. — View  from  the  Terrace. — The  Bu- 
rial Grounds. — The  Cholera. — Design  of  the  Barracks. — Corps 
de  Reserve. — A  remarkable  Cavern. — Our  Guide. — Situation  of 
Cave. — Entrance. — Exploration. — Grotesque  Shapes. — A  Foot. 
— Boat.— Coffin  in  Stone.— The  Bats.— Riviere  des  Peres.— 
An  ancient  Cemetery. — Antiquities. — The  Jesuit  Settlers. — Sul- 
phur Spring. — A  Cavern. — A  Ruin  .  .  Page  143-153 

XIV. 

City  and  Country  at  Midsummer. — Cosmorama  of  St.  Louis. — The 
American  Bottom. — Cahokia  Creek. — A  Pecan  Grove. — The 
Ancient  Mounds. — First  Group. — Number. — Resemblance. — 
Magnitude. — Outline. — Railroad  to  the  Bluffs. — Pittsburg. — 
The  Prairie.— Landscape.— The  "Cantine  Mounds."— "Monk 
Hill." — First  Impressions. — Origin. — The  Argument. — Work- 
manship of  Man. — Reflections  suggested. — Our  Memory. — The 
Craving  of  the  Heart. — The  Pyramid-builders. — The  Mound- 
builders. — A  hopeless  Aspiration. — "  Keep  the  Soul  embalmed" 

154-162 

XV. 

The  Antiquity  of  Monk  Mound. — Primitive  Magnitude. — Fortifi- 
cations of  the  Revolution. — The  Ancient  Population. — Two 
Cities.— Design  of  the  Mounds.— The  "  Cantine  Mounds."— 
Number.  —  Size.  —  Position.  —  Outline.  —  Features  of  Monk 
Mound. — View  from  the  Summit. — Prairie. — Lakes. — Groves. 
— Bluffs. — Cantine  Creek. — St.  Louis  in  distance. — Neighbour- 
ing Earth-heaps. — The  Well. — Interior  of  the  Mound. — The 
Monastery  of  La  Trappe. — Abbe  Armand  Ranee. — The  Vows- 
— A  Quotation. — Reign  of  Terror. — Immigration  of  the  Trap- 
pists.— Their  Buildings.— Their  Discipline.— Diet.— Health.— 
Skill.— Asylum  Seminary.— Worldly  Charity.— Palliation.— A 
strange  Spectacle  .  .-'•.'•'  -P  ''V~:  .  163-174 


XIV  CONTENTS. 

XVI. 

Edwardsville. — Site  and  Buildings. — Land  Mania. — A  "  Down- 
east"  Incident. — Human  Nature. — The  first  Land  Speculator. — 
Castor-oil  Manufacture. — Outlines  of  Edwardsville. — Collins- 
ville. — Route  to  Alton. — Sultriness. — The  Alton  Bluffs. — A 
Panorama. — Earth-heaps. — Indian  Graves. — Upper  Alton. — 
Shurtliff  College.  —  Baptized  Intelligence.  —  Knowledge  not 
Conservative. —  Greece. —  Rome. —  France. —  England. —  The 
Remedy  .'>  • Page  174-185 

XVII. 

The  Traveller's  Whereabout. — The  Prairie  in  a  Mist. — Sense  of 
Loneliness. — The  Backwoods  Farmhouse. — Structure. — Out- 
line. —  Western  Roads.  —  A  New-England  Emigrant.  —  The 
"  Barrens."— Origin,  of  Name.— Soil.— The  "Sink-holes."— 
The  Springs. — Similar  in  Missouri  and  Florida. — "  Fount  of  Re- 
juvenescence."— Ponce  de  Leon. — "  Sappho's  Fount." — The 
Prairies. — First  View. — The  Grass. — Flowers. — Island-groves. 
— A  Contrast. — Prairie-farms. — A  Buck  and  Doe. — A  Kentucky 
Pioneer. — Events  of  Fifty  Years. — The  "  Order  Tramontane." 
— Expedition  of  Gov.  Spotswood. — The  Change. — A  Thunder- 
storm on  the  Prairies. — "  A  Sharer  in  the  Tempest." — Discre- 
tionary Valour 186-198 

XVIII. 

Morning  after  the  Storm.  —  The  Landscape.  —  The  sprinkled 
Groves. — Nature  in  unison  with  the  Heart. — The  Impress  of  De- 
sign.— Contemplation  of  grand  Objects  elevates. — Nature  and 
the  Savage. — Nature  and  Nature's  God. — Earth  praises  God. — 
Indifference  and  Ingratitude  of  Man. — "  All  is  very  Good." — In- 
fluence of  Scenery  upon  Character. — The  Swiss  Mountaineer. — 
Bold  Scenery  most  Impressive. — Freedom  among  the  Alps. — 
Caucasus. — Himmalaya. — Something  to  Love. — Carlinville. — 
"Grand  Menagerie."— A  Scene.— The  Soil.— The  Inn.— Ma- 
coupin  Creek. — Origin  of  Name. — A  Vegetable. — An  Indian 
Luxury. — Carlinville.  —  Its  Advantages  and  Prospects.  —  A 
"  Fourth- of- July"  Oration. — The  thronging.  Multitudes. — The 
huge  Cart. — A  Thunder-storm. — A  Log-cabin. — Women  and 
Children. — Outlines  of  the  Cabin. — The  Roof  and  Floor. — The 
Furniture  and  Dinner-pot. — A  Choice  of  Evils. — The  Pathless 
Prairie  .  •  199-211 


-  CONTENTS.  XV 

XIX. 

Ponce  de  Leon. — The  Fount  of  Youth. — The  "  Land  of  Flowers." 
— Ferdinand  de  Soto. — "  El  Padre  de  los  Aguas." — The  Cana- 
dian Voyageurs. — "La  Belle  Riviere." — Sieur  La  Salle. — "A 
Terrestrial  Paradise."— Daniel  Boone.— "  Old  Kentucke."— 
"The  Pilgrim  from  the  North." — Sabbath  Morning. — The 
Landscape. — The  Grass  and  Prairie-flower. — Nature  at  Rest. 
— Sabbath  on  the  Prairie. — Alluvial  Aspect  of  the  Prairies.— 
The  Soil— Lakes.— Fish.— The  Annual  Fires.— Origin. —A 
Mode  of  Hunting.— Captain  Smith. — Mungo  Park. — Hillsbor- 
ough. — Major-domo  of  the  Hostelrie. — His  Garb  and  Propor- 
tions.— The  Presbyterian  Church. — Picturesqueness. — "  The 
"  Luteran  Church." — Practical  Utility. — The  Dark  Minister. — 
A  Mistake. — The  Patriotic  Dutchman. — A  Veritable  Publican. 
— Prospects  of  Hillsborough. — A  Theological  Seminary. — Route 
to  Vandalia.— The  Political  Sabbath  .  .  Page  212-220 

XX. 

The  Race  of  Vagabonds. — "Yankee  Enterprise." — The  Virginia 
Emigrant. — The  Western  Creeks  and  Bridges. — An  Adventure 
in  Botany. — Unnatural  Rebellion. — Christian  Retaliation. — 
Vandalia.—"  First  Impressions."— The  Patriotic  Bacchanal.— 
The  High-priest. — A  Distinction  Unmerited. — The  Cause. — 
Vandalia. — Situation. — Public  Edifices. — Square. — Church. — 
Bank. — Land-office. — "  Illinois  Magazine." — Tardy  Growth. — 
Removal  of  Government. — Adventures  of  the  First  Legislators. 
— The  Northern  Frontier. — Magic  of  Sixteen  Years. — Route  to 
Carlisle. — A  Buck  and  Doe. — An  old  Hunter. — "  Hurricane 
Bottom." — Night  on  the  Prairies. — The  Emigrant's  Bivouac. — 
The  Prairie-grass. — Carlisle. — Site. — Advantages. — Growth. — 
"Mound  Farm"  .  /:  -ni:'.:.  .»  v  .  •.,  .  .  221-232 

XXI. 

The  Love  of  Nature.— Its  Delights.— The  Wanderer's  Reflec- 
tions.— The  Magic  Hour. — A  Sunset  on  the  Prairies. — "  The 
Sunny  Italy." — The  Prairie  Sunset. — Route  to  Lebanon. — Sil- 
ver Creek. — Origin  of  Name. — The  "  Looking-glass  Prairie." — 
The  Methodist  Village. — Farms. — Country  Seats.— Maize-fields. 
—Herds.— M'Kendreean  College.—"  The  Seminary  !"— Route 
to  Belleville. — The  Force  of  Circumstance. — A  Contrast. — Pub- 


XVI  CONTENTS. 

lie  Buildings. — A  lingering  Look. — Route  to  St.  Louis. — The 
French  Village.— The  Coal  Bluffs.— Discovery  of  Coal.— St. 
Clair  County. — Home  of  Clouds. — Realm  of  Thunder. — San 
Louis  .  .  .  .  ,  *  :-j>s  ••  r»"  •  Page  233-242 

XXII. 

Single  Blessedness. — Text  and  Comment. — En  Route. — North  St. 
Louis. — A  Delightful  Drive. — A  Delightful  Farm-cottage. — The 
Catholic  University. — A  Stately  Villa. — Belle  Fontaine. — A 
Town-plat. — A  View  of  the  Confluence. — The  Human  Tooth. — 
The  Hamlet  of  Florissant. — Former  Name. — Site. — Buildings. 
— Church.  —  Seminary. —  Tonish. —  Owen's  Station. — Scenery 
upon  the  Route. — La  Charbonniere. — The  Missouri  Bottom. 
— The  Forest-Colonnade. — The  Missouri.— Its  Sublimity. — In- 
dian Names. — Its  turbid  Character. — Cause. — An  Inexplicable 
Phenomenon. — Theories. — Navigation  Dangerous. — Floods  of 
the  Missouri. — Alluvions. — Sources  of  the  Missouri  and  Colum- 
bia.— Their  Destinies. — Human  Life. — The  Ocean  of  Eternity. 
— Gates  of  the  Rocky  Mountains. — Sublimity. — A  Cataract. — 
The  Main  Stream. — Claims  stated  ,  243-254 


ERRATA. 

Page  102,  one  line  from  the  top,  for  Bacchanalia,  read  Bacchanal. 
"      120,  two  lines  from  bot.,  for  Grand,  "     Grandes. 

»      121,  thirteen       "       "      "  1817,  "     1814. 

»      140,  five    "         "       »      "  Louis  XVIII.  "    Louis  XVI. 
«      158,  seventeen    "       "      "  Sumac,  "     Sumach. 

"      212,  foot-note,  for  Pasqua  de  Flares,  read  Pasqua  Florida. 
"      241,  five  lines  from  bottom,  erase  first. 

f 


THE    FAR   WEST. 


"  I  do  remember  me,  that,  in  my  youth, 
When  I  was  wandering — " 

MANFRED. 


IT  was  a  bright  morning  in  the  early  days  of 
"  leafy  June."  Many  a  month  had  seen  me  a  wan- 
derer from  distant  New-England  ;  and  now  I  found 
myself  "  once  more  upon  the  waters,"  embarked 
for  a  pilgrimage  over  the  broad  prairie-plains  of 
the  sunset  West.  A  drizzly,  miserable  rain  had 
for  some  days  been  hovering,  with  proverbial  per- 
tinacity, over  the  devoted  "  City  of  the  Falls,"  and 
still,  at  intervals,  came  lazily  pattering  down  from 
the  sunlighted  clouds,  reminding  one  of  a  hoiden 
girl  smiling  through  a  shower  of  April  tear-drops, 
while  the  quay  continued  to  exhibit  all  that  wild 
uproar  and  tumult,  "confusion  worse  confound- 
ed," which  characterizes  the  steamboat  commerce 
of  the  Western  Valley.  The  landing  at  the  time 
was  thronged  with  steamers,  and  yet  the  inces- 
sant "boom,  boom,  boom,"  of  the  high-pressure 
engines,  the  shrill  hiss  of  scalding  steam,  and  the 
fitful  port-song  of  the  negro  firemen  rising  ever 
and  anon  upon  fthe  breeze,  gave  notice  of  a  con. 

VOL.  I.— B 


14  THE    FAR    WEST. 

slant  augmentation  to  the  number.  Some,  too7 
were  getting  under  way,  and  their  lower  guards 
were  thronged  by  emigrants  with  their  household 
and  agricultural  utensils.  Drays  were  rattling 
hither  and  thither  over  the  rough  pavement ;  Irish 
porters  were  cracking  their  whips  and  roaring 
forth  alternate  staves  of  blasphemy  and  song ;  clerks 
hurrying  to  and  fro,  with  fluttering  note- books,  in 
all  the  fancied  dignity  of  "  brief  authority ;"  hack- 
ney-coaches dashing  down  to  the  water's  edge,  ap- 
parently with  no  motive  to  the  nervous  man  but 
noise  ;  while  at  intervals,  as  if  to  fill  up  the  pauses 
of  the  Babel,  some  incontinent  steamer  would  hurl 
forth  from  the  valves  of  her  overcharged  boilers 
one  of  those  deafening,  terrible  blasts,  echoing  and 
re-echoing  along  the  river-banks,  and  streets,  and 
among  the  lofty  buildings,  till  the  very  welkin  rang 
again. 

To  one  who  has  never  visited  the  public  wharves 
of  the  great  cities  of  the  West,  it  is  no  trivial  task 
to  convey  an  adequate  idea  of  the  spectacle  they 
present.  The  commerce  of  the  Eastern  seaports 
and  that  of  the  Western  Valley  are  utterly  dissim- 
ilar ;  not  more  in  the  staples  of  intercourse  than 
in  the  mode  in  which  it  is  conducted ;  and,  were 
one  desirous  of  exhibiting  to  a  friend  from  the  At- 
lantic shore  a  picture  of  the  prominent  features 
which  characterize  commercial  proceedings  upon 
the  Western  waters,  or,  indeed,  of  Western  charac- 
ter in  its  general  outline,  at  a  coup  cF(Eil,  he  could 
do  no  better  than  to  place  him  in  the  wild  uproar  of 
the  steamboat  quay.  Amid  the  "  crowd,  the  hum, 


THE    FAR    WEST.  15 

the  shock"  of  such  a  scene  stands  out  Western  pe- 
culiarity in  all  its  stern  proportion. 

Steamers  on  the  great  waters  of  the  West  are 
well  known  to  indulge  no  violently  conscientious 
scruples  upon  the  subject  of  punctuality,  and  a  soli- 
tary exception  at  our  behest,  or  in  our  humble  be- 
half, was,  to  be  sure,  not  an  event  to  be  counted 
on.  "  There's  dignity  in  being  waited  for ;"  hour 
after  hour,  therefore,  still  found  us  and  left  us  amid 
the  untold  scenes  and  sounds  of  the  public  landing. 
It  is  true,  and  to  the  unending  honour  of  all  con- 
cerned be  it  recorded,  very  true  it  is  our  doughty 
steamer  ever  and  anon  would  puff  and  blow  like  a 
porpoise  or  a  narwhal ;  and  then  would  she  swel- 
ter from  every  pore  and  quiver  in  every  limb  with 
the  ponderous  labouring  of  her  huge  enginery,  and 
the  steam  would  shrilly  whistle  and  shriek  like  a 
spirit  in  its  confinement,  till  at  length  she  united 
her  whirlwind  voice  to  the  general  roar  around  ; 
and  all  this  indicated,  indubitably,  an  intention  to 
be  off  and  away  ;  but  a  knowing  one  was  he  who 
could  determine  the  when. 

Among  the  causes  of  our  wearisome  detention 
was  one  of  a  nature  too  melancholy,  too  painful- 
ly interesting  lightly  to  be  alluded  to.  Endeav- 
ouring to  while  away  the  tedium  of  delay,  I  was 
pacing  leisurely  back  and  forth  upon  the  guard,  sur- 
veying the  lovely  scenery  of  the  opposite  shore, 
and  the  neat  little  houses  of  the  village  sprinkled 
upon  the  plain  beyond,  when  a  wild,  piercing  shriek 
struck  upon  my  ear.  I  was  hurrying  immediately 
forward  to  the  spot  whence  it  seemed  to  proceed, 


16  THE    FAR   WEST. 

when  I  was  intercepted  by  some  of  our  boat's  crew 
bearing  a  mangled  body.  It  was  that  of  our  sec- 
ond engineer,  a  fine,  laughing  young  fellow,  who 
had  been  terribly  injured  by  becoming  entangled 
with  the  fly-wheel  of  the  machinery  while  in  mo- 
tion. He  was  laid  upon  the  passage  floor.  I 
stood  at  his  head  ;  and  never,  I  think,  shall  I  forget 
those  convulsed  and  agonized  features.  His  coun- 
tenance was  ghastly  and  livid ;  beaded  globules 
of  cold  sweat  started  out  incessantly  upon  his  pale 
brow  ;  and,  in  the  paroxysms  of  pain,  his  dark  eye 
would  flash,  his  nostril  dilate,  and  his  lips  quiv- 
er so  as  to  expose  the  teeth  gnashing  in  a  fear- 
ful manner ;  while  a  muttered  execration,  dying 
away  from  exhaustion,  caused  us  all  to  shudder. 
And  then  that  wild  despairing  roll  of  the  eyeball 
in  its  socket  as  the  miserable  man  would  glance 
hurriedly  around  upon  the  countenances  of  the  by- 
standers, imploring  them,  in  utter  helplessness,  to 
lend  him  relief.  Ah !  it  is  a  fearful  thing  to  look 
upon  these  strivings  of  humanity  in  the  iron  grasp 
of  a  power  it  may  in  vain  resist !  From  the  quan- 
tity of  blood  thrown  off,  the  oppressive  fulness  of 
the  chest,  and  the  difficult  respiration,  some  serious 
pulmonary  injury  had  evidently  been  sustained ; 
while  a  splintered  clavicle  and  limbs  shockingly 
shattered  racked  the  poor  sufferer  with  anguish  in- 
expressible. It  was  evident  he  believed  himself 
seriously  injured,  for  at  times  he  would  fling  out  his 
arms,  beseeching  those  around  him  to  "  hold  him 
back,"  as  if  even  then  he  perceived  the  icy  grasp 
of  the  death  angel  creeping  over  his  frame. 


THE    FAR   WEST.  17 

Perhaps  I  have  devoted  more  words  to  the  de- 
tail of  this  melancholy  incident  than  would  other- 
wise have  been  the  case,  on  account  of  the  interest 
which  some  circumstances  in  the  sufferer's  histo- 
ry, subsequently  received  from  the  captain  of  our 
steamer,  inspired. 

"  Frank,  poor  fellow,"  said  the  captain,  "  was  a 
native  of  Ohio,  th«  son  of  a  lone  woman,  a  widow. 
He  was  all  her  hope,  and  to  his  exertions  she  was 
indebted  for  a  humble  support." 

Here,  then,  were  circumstances  to  touch  the  sym- 
pathies of  any  heart  possessed  of  but  a  tithe  of  the 
nobleness  of  our  nature ;  and  I  could  not  but  re- 
flect, as  they  were  recounted,  how  like  the  breath 
of  desolation  the  first  intelligence  of  her  son's  fear- 
ful end  must  sweep  over  the  spirit  of  this  lonely 
widow ;  for,  like  the  wretched  Constance,  she  can 
"  never,  never  behold  him  more." 

"  Her  life,  her  joy,  her  food,  her  all  the  world ! 
Her  widow- comfort,  and  her  sorrow's  cure  !" 

While  indulging  in  these  sad  reflections  a  gay 
burst  of  music  arrested  my  attention ;  and,  looking 
up,  I  perceived  the  packet-boat  "  Lady  Marshall" 
dropping  from  her  mooring  at  the  quay,  her  decks 
swarming  with  passengers,  and  under  high  press 
of  steam,  holding  her  bold  course  against  the  cur- 
rent, while  the  merry  dashing  of  the  wheels,  ming- 
ling with  the  wild  clang  of  martial  music,  imparted 
an  air  almost  of  romance  to  the  scene.  How 
strangely  did  this  contrast  with  that  misery  from 
which  my  eye  had  just  turned  ! 

There  are  few  objects  more  truly  grand — I  had 
»  B  2 


18  THE    FAR  WEST. 

almost  said  sublime — than  a  powerful  steamer 
struggling  triumphantly  with  the  rapids  of  the 
Western  waters.  The  scene  has  in  it  a  something 
of  that  power  which  we  feel  upon  us  in  viewing  a 
ship  under  full  sail ;  and,  in  some  respects,  there  is 
more  of  the  sublime  in  the  humbler  triumph  of  man 
over  the  elements  than  in  that  more  vast.  Sub- 
limity is  a  result,  not  merely  of  massive,  extended, 
unmeasured  greatness,  but  oftener,  and  far  more 
impressively,  does  the  sentiment  arise  from  a  com- 
bination  of  vast  and  powerful  objects.  The  mighty 
stream  rolling  its  volumed  floods  through  half  a 
continent,  and  hurrying  onward  to  mingle  its  full 
tide  with  the  "  Father  of  Waters,"  is  truly  sublime  ; 
its  resistless  power  is  sublime  ;  the  memory  of  its 
by-gone  scenes,  and  the  venerable  moss-grown  for- 
ests on  its  banks,  are  sublime  ;  and,  lastly,  the  no- 
ble fabric  of  man's  workmanship  struggling  and 
groaning  in  convulsed,  triumphant  effort  to  over- 
come the  resistance  offered,  completes  a  picture 
which  demands  not  the  heaving  ocean-waste  and 
the  "  oak  leviathan"  to  embellish. 

It  was  not  until  the  afternoon  was  far  advanced 
that  we  found  ourselves  fairly  embarked.  A  rapid 
freshet  had  within  a  few  hours  swollen  the  tran- 
quil Ohio  far  beyond  its  ordinary  volume  and  ve- 
locity, and  its  turbid  waters  were  rolling  onward 
between  the  green  banks,  bearing  on  their  bosom 
all  the  varied  spoils  of  their  mountain-home,  and 
of  the  rich  region  through  which  they  had  been 
flowing.  The  finest  site  from  which  to  view  the 
city  we  found  to  be  the  channel  of  the  Falls  upon 
the  Indiana  side  of  the  stream,  caKed  the  Indian 


THE    FAR    WEST.  19 

chute,  to  distinguish  it  from  two  others,  called  the 
Middle  chute  and  the  Kentucky  chute.  The  pros- 
pect from  this  point  is  noble,  though  the  uniformity 
of  the  structures,  the  fewness  of  the  spires,  the  un- 
imposing  character  of  the  public  edifices,  and  the 
depression  of  the  site  upon  which  the  city  stands, 
give  to  it  a  monotonous,  perhaps  a  lifeless  aspect 
to  the  stranger. 

It  was  in  the  year  1778  that  a  settlement  was 
first  commenced  upon  the  spot  on  which  the  fair 
city  of  Louisville  now  stands.  In  the  early  spring 
of  that  year,  General  George  Rodgers  Clarke, 
under  authority  of  the  State  of  Virginia,  descended 
the  Ohio  with  several  hundred  men,  with  the  de- 
sign of  reducing  the  military  posts  of  Kaskaskia, 
Cahokia,  and  Fort  Vincent,  then  held  by  British 
troops.  Disembarking  upon  Corn  Island  at  the 
Falls  of  the  Ohio,  opposite  the  present  city,  land 
sufficient  for  the  support  of  six  families,  which  were 
left,  was  cleared  and  planted  with  corn.  From 
this  circumstance  the  island  received  a  name  which 
it  yet  retains.  General  Clarke  proceeded  upon  his 
expedition,  and,  in  the  autumn  returning  success- 
ful, the  emigrants  were  removed  to  the  main  land, 
and  a  settlement  was  commenced  where  Louisville 
now  stands.  During  the  few  succeeding  years, 
other  families  from  Virginia  settled  upon  the  spot, 
and  in  the  spring  of  1780  seven  stations  were 
formed  upon  Beargrass  Creek,  which  here  empties 
into  the  Mississippi,  and  Louisville  commenced  its 
march  to  its  present  importance. 

The  view  of  the  city  from  the  Falls,  as  I  have 
remarked,  is  n*5t  at  all  imposing ;  the  view  of  the 


20  THE    FAR   WEST. 

Falls  from  the  city,  on  the  contrary,  is  one  of  beauty 
and  romance.  They  are  occasioned  by  a  parapet 
of  limestone  extending  quite  across  the  stream, 
which  is  here  about  one  mile  in  width ;  and  when 
the  water  is  low  the  whole  chain  sparkles  with 
bubbling  foam-bells.  When  the  stream  is  full  the 
descent  is  hardly  perceptible  but  for  the  increased 
rapidity  of  the  current,  which  varies  from  ten  to 
fourteen  miles  an  hour.*  Owing  to  the  height  of 
the  freshet,  this  was  the  case  at  the  time  when  we 
descended  them,  and  there  was  a  wild  air  of  ro- 
mance about  the  dark  rushing  waters :  and  the 
green  woodlands  upon  either  shore,  overshadowed 
as  they  were  by  the  shifting  light  and  shade  of  the 
flitting  clouds,  cast  over  the  scene  a  bewitching 
fascination.  "  Corn  Island"  with  its  legendary  as- 
sociations, rearing  its  dense  clump  of  foliage  as 
from  the  depths  of  the  stream,  was  not  the  least 
beautiful  object  of  the  panorama  ;  while  the  rece- 
ding city,  with  its  smoky  roofs,  its  bustling  quay, 
and  the  glitter  and  animation  of  an  extended  line 
of  steamers,  was  alone  necessary  to  fill  up  a  scene 
for  a  limner.f  And  our  steamer  swept  onward 

*  It  is  only  at  high  stages  of  the  river  that  boats  even  of  a 
smaller  class  can  pass  over  the  Falls.  At  other  times  they  go 
through  the  "  Louisville  and  Portland  Canal,"  for  an  interesting 
description  of  which,  see  Appendix. 

t  A  circumstance,  too,  which  adds  not  a  little  of  interest  to  the 
spot,  is  the  old  Indian  tradition  that  here  was  fought  the  last  battle 
between  their  race  and  the  former  dwellers  in  Kentucky — the 
white  mound-builders — in  which  the  latter  were  exterminated  to  a 
man.  True  or  false,  vast  quantities  of  human  remains  have,  at 
low  stages  of  the  Ohio,  been  found  upon  the  shores  of  Sandy  Isl- 
and, one  mile  below,  and  an  extensive  graveyard  once  existed  in, 
the  vicinity  of  Shipping-port. 


THE    PAR    WEST.  21 

over  the  rapids,  and  threaded  their  maze  of  beau- 
tiful islands,  and  passed  along  the  little  villages  at 
their  foot  and  the  splendid  steamers  along  their 
shore,  till  twilight  had  faded,  and  the  dusky  mantle 
of  departed  day  was  flung  over  forest  and  stream. 
Ohio  River. 


II. 

"  How  beautiful  is  this  visible  world  ! 
How  glorious  in  its  action  and  itself!" 

MANFRED. 

"  The  woods — oh  !  solemn  are  the  boundless  woods 
Of  the  great  Western  World  when  day  declines, 
And  louder  sounds  the  roll  of  distant  floods." 

HEMANS. 

LONG  before  the  dawn  on  the  morning  succeed- 
ing our  departure  we  were  roused  from  our  rest 
by  the  hissing  of  steam  and  the  rattling  of  machin- 
ery as  our  boat  moved  slowly  out  from  beneath  the 
high  banks  and  lofty  sycamores  of  the  river-side, 
where  she  had  in  safety  been  moored  for  the  night, 
to  resume  her  course.  Withdrawing  the  curtain 
from  the  little  rectangular  window  of  my  state- 
room, the  dark  shadow  of  the  forest  was  slumber- 
ing in  calm  magnificence  upon  the  waters  ;  and 
glancing  upward  my  eye,  the  stars  were  beaming 
out  in  silvery  brightness  ;  while  all  along  the  east- 
ern horizon,  where 

"  The  gray  coursers  of  the  morn 
Beat  up  the  light  with  their  bright  silver  hoof* 
And  drive  it  through  the  sky," 


22  THE    FAR  T-VBST. 

rested  a  broad,  low  zone  of  clear  heaven,  proclaim- 
ing the  coming  of  a  glorious  dawn.  The  hated 
clang  of  the  bell-boy  was  soon  after  heard  resound- 
ing far  and  wide  in  querulous  and  deafening  clam- 
our throughout  the  cabins,  vexing  the  dull  ear  of 
every  drowsy  man  in  the  terrible  language  of 
Macbeth's  evil  conscience,  "  sleep  no  more  !"  In 
a  very  desperation  of  self-defence  I  arose.  The 
mists  of  night  had  not  yet  wholly  dispersed,  and 
the  rack  and  fog  floated  quietly  upon  the  placid 
bosom  of  the  stream,  or  ascended  in  ragged  masses 
from  the  dense  foliage  upon  its  banks.  All  this 
melted  gently  away  like  '*  the  baseless  fabric  of  a 
vision,"  and  "  the  beauteous  eye  of  day"  burst  forth 
in  splendour,  lighting  up  a  scene  of  unrivalled  love- 
liness. 

Much,  very  much  has  been  written  of  "  the  beau- 
tiful Ohio ;"  the  pens  of  an  hundred  tourists  have 
sketched  its  quiet  waters  and  its  venerable  groves ; 
but  there  is  in  its  noble  scenery  an  ever  salient 
freshness,  which  no  description,  however  varied, 
can  exhaust ;  new  beauties  leap  forth  to  the  eye  of 
the  man  of  sensibility,  and  even  an  humble  pen  may 
not  fail  to  array  them  in  the  drapery  of  their  own 
loveliness.  There  are  in  this  beautiful  stream  fea- 
tures peculiar  to  itself,  which  distinguish  it  from 
every  other  that  we  have  seen  or  of  which  we  have 
read  ;  features  which  render  it  truly  and  emphati* 
cally  sui  generis.  It  is  not  "  the  blue-rushing  of 
the  arrowy  Rhone,"  with  castled  crags  and  frown- 
ing battlements  ;  it  is  not  the  dark-rolling  Danube, 
shadowy  with  the  legend  of  departed  time,  upon 
whose  banks  armies  have  met  and  battled  ;  it  is  not 


THE   FAR  WEST,  23 

the  lordly  Hudson,  roaming  in  beauty  through  the 
ever-varying  romance  of  the  Catskill  Highlands ; 
nor  is  it  the  gentle  wave  of  the  soft- flowing  Connec- 
ticut, seeming  almost  to  sleep  as  it  glides  through 
the  calm,  "  happy  valley"  of  New-England :  but 
it  is  that  noble  stream,  bounding  forth,  like  a  young 
warrior  of  the  wilderness,  in  all  the  joyance  of  early 
vigour,  from  the  wild  twin-torrents  of  the  hills ; 
rolling  onward  through  a  section  of  country  the 
glory  of  a  new  world,  and  over  the  wooded  heights 
of  whose  banks  has  rushed  full  many  a  crimson 
tide  of  Indian  massacre.  Ohio,*  "The  River  of 
Blood"  was  its  fearfully  significant  name  from  the 
aboriginal  native  ;  La  Belle  Riviere  was  its  eu- 
phonious distinction  from  the  simple  Canadian  voy- 
ageur,  whose  light  pirogue  first  glided  on  its  blue 
bosom.  "  The  Beautiful  River !" — it  is  no  misno- 
mer— from  its  earliest  commencement  to  the  broad 
embouchure  into  the  turbid  floods  of  the  Mississippi, 
it  unites  every  combination  of  scenic  loveliness 
which  even  the  poet's  sublimated  fancy  could  de- 
mand. Now  it  sweeps  along  beneath  its  lofty 
blufls  in  the  conscious  grandeur  of  resistless  might ; 
and  then  its  clear,  transparent  waters  glide  in  un- 
dulating ripples  over  the  shelly  bottoms  and  among 
the  pebbly  heaps  of  the  white-drifted  sand-bars,  or 
in  the  calm  magnificence  of  their  eternal  wandering, 

"  To  the  gentle  woods  all  night 
Sing  they  a  sleepy  tune." 

From  either  shore  streams  of  singular  beauty 
and  euphonious  names  come  pouring  in  their  trib- 

*  Kcntucfo  is  said  to  have  a  similar  meaning. 


24  THE   FAR   WEST. 

lite  through  the  deep  foliage  of  the  fertile  bot- 
toms ;  while  the  swelling,  volumed  outlines  of  the 
banks,  piled  up  with  ponderous  verdure  rolling 
and  heaving  in  the  river-breeze  like  life,  recur  in 
such  grandeur  and  softness,  and  such  ever-varying 
combinations  of  beauty,  as  to  destroy  every  ap- 
proach to  monotonous  effect.  From  the  source  of 
the  Ohio  to  its  outlet  its  waters  imbosom  more 
than  an  hundred  islands,  some  of  such  matchless 
loveliness  that  it  is  worthy  of  remark  that  such 
slight  allusion  has  been  made  to  them  in  the  nu- 
merous pencillings  of  Ohio  scenery.  In  the  fresh, 
early  summer-time,  when  the  deep  green  of  vegeta- 
tion is  in  its  luxuriance,  they  surely  constitute  the 
most  striking  feature  of  the  river.  Most  of  them 
are  densely  wooded  to  the  water's  edge  ;  and  the 
wild  vines  and  underbrush  suspended  lightly  over 
the  waters  are  mirrored  in  their  bosom  or  swept 
by  the  current  into  attitudes  most  graceful  and 
picturesque.  In  some  of  those  stretched-out,  end- 
less reaches  which  are  constantly  recurring,  they 
seem  bursting  up  like  beautiful  bouquets  of  sprin- 
kled evergreens  from  the  placid  stream ;  rounded 
and  swelling,  as  if  by  the  teachings  of  art,  on  the 
blue  bosom  of  the  waters.  A  cluster  of  these  "  isles 
of  light"  I  well  remember,  which  opened  upon  us 
the  eve  of  the  second  day  of  our  passage.  Two 
of  the  group  were  exceedingly  small,  mere  points 
of  a  deeper  shade  in  the  reflecting  azure ;  while 
the  third,  lying  between  the  former,  stretched  itself 
far  away  in  a  narrow,  well-defined  strip  of  foliage, 
like  a  curving  gash  in  the  surface^  parallel  to  the 


THE    FAR   WEST.  25 

shore ;  and  over  the  lengthened  vista  of  the  waters 
gliding  between,  the  giant  branches  bowed  them- 
selves, and  wove  their  mingled  verdure  into  an  im- 
mense Gothic  arch,  seemingly  of  interminable  ex- 
tent, but  closed  at  last  by  a  single  speck  of  crimson 
skylight  beyond.  Throughout  its  whole  course 
the  Ohio  is  fringed  with  wooded  bluffs ;  now  tow- 
ering in  sublime  majesty  hundreds  of  feet  from  the 
bed  of  the  rolling  stream,  and  anon  sweeping  inland 
for  miles,  and  rearing  up  those  eminences  so  singu- 
larly beautiful,  appropriately  termed  "  Ohio  hills," 
while  their  broad  alluvial  plains  in  the  interval 
betray,  by  their  enormous  vegetation,  a  fertility 
exhaustless  and  unrivalled.  Here  and  there  along 
the  green  bluffs  is  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  emigrant's 
low  log  cabin  peeping  out  to  the  eye  from  the  dark 
foliage,  sometimes  when  miles  in  the  distance ; 
while  the  rich  maize-fields  of  the  bottoms,  the  gir- 
dled forest-trees,  and  the  lowing  kine  betray  the  ad- 
vance of  civilized  existence.  But  if  the  scenes  of 
the  Ohio  are  beautiful  beneath  the  broad  glare  of 
morning  sunlight,  what  shall  sketch  their  linea- 
ments when  the  coarser  etchings  of  the  picture  are 
mellowed  down  by  the  balmy  effulgence  of  the 
midnight  moon  of  summer  !  When  her  floods  of 
light  are  streaming  far  and  wide  along  the  magnif- 
icent forest-tops  !  When  all  is  still — still !  and  sky, 
and  eaith,  and  wood,  and  stream  are  hushed  as  a 
spirit's  breathing !  When  thought  is  almost  au- 
dible, and  memory  is  busy  with  the  past !  When 
the  distant  bluffs,  bathed  in  molten  silver,  gleam 
like  beacon-lights,  and  the  far-off  vistas  of  the 
VOL.  I.— C 


26  THE    FAR   WEST. 

meandering  waters  are  flashing  with  the  sheen  of 
their  ripples  !  When  you  glide  through  the  end- 
less maze,  and  the  bright  islets  shift,  and  vary,  and 
pass  away  in  succession  like  pictures  of  the  ka- 
leidoscope before  your  eye  !  When  imagination  is 
awake  and  flinging  forth  her  airy  fictions,  bodies 
things  unseen,  and  clothes  reality  in  loveliness  not 
of  earth !  When  a  scene  like  this  is  developed, 
what  shall  adequately  depict  it  ?  Not  the  pen. 

Such,  such  is  the  beautiful  Ohio  in  the  soft  days 
of  early  summer ;  and  though  hackneyed  may  be 
the  theme  of  its  loveliness,  yet,  as  the  dying  glories 
of  a  Western  sunset  flung  over  the  landscape  the 
mellow  tenderness  of  its  parting  smile, "  fading,  still 
fading,  as  the  day  was  declining,"  till  night's  dusky 
mantle  had  wrapped  the  "  woods  on  shore"  and  the 
quiet  stream  from  the  eye,  I  could  not,  even  at  the 
hazard  of  triteness,  resist  an  inclination  to  fling  upon 
the  sheet  a  few  hurried  lineaments  of  Nature's 
beautiful  creations. 

There  is  not  a  stream  upon  the  continent  which, 
for  the  same  distance,  rolls  onward  so  calmly,  and 
smoothly,  and  peacefully  as  the  Ohio.  Danger 
rarely  visits  its  tranquil  bosom,  except  from  the 
storms  of  heaven  or  the  reckless  folly  of  man,  and 
hardly  a  river  in  the  world  can  vie  with  it  in  safe- 
ty, utility,  or  beauty.  Though  subject  to  rapid  and 
great  elevations  and  depressions,  its  current  is  gen- 
erally uniform,  never  furious.  The  forest-trees 
which  skirt  its  banks  are  the  largest  in  North 
America,  while  the  variety  is  endless ;  several  syc- 
amores were  pointed  out  to  us  upon  the  shores 
from  thirty  to  fifty  feet  in  circumference.  Its  al- 


THE    FAR    WEST.  27 

luvial  bottoms  are  broad,  deep,  and  exhaustlessly 
fertile  ;  its  bluffs  are  often  from  three  to  four  hun- 
dred feet  in  height ;  its  breadth  varies  from  one 
mile  to  three,  and  its  navigation,  since  the  improve- 
ments commenced,  under  the  authority  of  Congress, 
by  the  enterprising  Shreve,  has  become  safe  and 
easy.  The  classification  of  obstructions  is  the  fol- 
lowing :  snags,  trees  anchored  by  their  roots ;  frag- 
ments of  trees  of  various  forms  and  magnitude ; 
wreck-heaps,  consisting  of  several  of  these  stumps, 
and  logs,  and  branches  of  trees  lodged  in  one  place ; 
rocks,  which  have  rolled  from  the  cliffs,  and  vary- 
ing from  ten  to  one  hundred  cubic  feet  in  size ;  and 
sunken  boats,  principally  flat-boats  laden  with  coal. 
The  last  remains  one  of  the  most  serious  obstacles 
to  the  navigation  of  the  Ohio.  Many  steamers 
have  been  damaged  by  striking  the  wrecks  of  the 
Baltimore,  the  Roanoke,  the  William  Hulburt, 
and  other  craft,  which  were  themselves  snagged ; 
while  keel  and  flat-boats  without  number  have  been 
lost  from  the  same  cause.*  Several  thousands  of 
the  obstacles  mentioned  have  been  removed  since 
improvements  were  commenced,  and  accidents 
from  this  cause  are  now  less  frequent.  Some  of 
the  snags  torn  up  from  the  bed  of  the  stream,  where 
they  have  probably  for  ages  been  buried,  are  said 
to  have  exceeded  a  diameter  of  six  feet  at  the  root, 
and  were  upward  of  an  hundred  feet  in  length.  The 
removal  of  these  obstructions  on  the  Ohio  presents 
a  difficulty  and  expense  not  encountered  upon  the 
Mississippi.  In  the  latter  stream,  the  root  of  the 
enag,  when  eradicated,  is  deposited  in  some  deep 

*  The  keel-boat  Hindoo,  with  merchandise  to  the  amount  of 
$50,000,  is  a  late  instance. 


28  THE    PAR    WEST. 

pool  or  bayou  along  the  banks,  and  immediately 
imbeds  itself  in  alluvial  deposite  ;  but  on  the  Ohio, 
owing  to  the  nature  of  its  banks  in  most  of  its 
course,  there  is  no  opportunity  for  such  a  disposal, 
and  the  boatmen  are  forced  to  blast  the  logs  with 
gunpowder  to  prevent  them  from  again  forming  ob- 
structions. The  cutting  down  and  clearing  away 
of  all  leaning  and  fallen  trees  from  the  banks  con- 
stitutes an  essential  feature  in  the  scheme  of  im- 
provement ;  since  the  facts  are  well  ascertained 
that  trees  seldom  plant  themselves  far  from  the 
spot  where  they  fall ;  and  that,  when  once  under  the 
power  of  the  current,  they  seldom  anchor  themselves 
and  form  snags.  The  policy  of  removing  the  lean- 
ing and  fallen  trees  is,  therefore,  palpable,  since* 
when  this  is  once  thoroughly  accomplished,  no  ma- 
terial for  subsequent  formation  can  exist.  The 
construction  of  stone  dams,  by  which  to  concen- 
trate into  a  single  channel  all  the  waters  of  the 
river,  where  they  are  divided  by  islands,  or  from 
other  causes  are  spread  over  a  broad  extent,  is  an- 
other operation  now  in  execution.  The  dams  at 
"  Brown's  Island,"  the  shoalest  point  on  the  Ohio, 
have  been  so  eminently  successful  as  fully  to  es- 
tablish the  efficiency  of  the  plan.  Several  other 
works  of  a  similar  character  are  proposed ;  a  full 
survey  of  the  stream,  hydrographical  and  topo- 
graphical, is  recommended;  and,  when  all  im- 
provements are  completed,  it  is  believed  that  the 
navigation  of  the  "  beautiful  Ohio"  will  answer 
every  purpose  of  commerce  and  the  traveller,  from 
its  source  to  its  mouth,  at  the  lowest  stages  of  the 

water*  t!i  '•  c 

Ohio  River. 


THE    FAR   WEST.  29 


III. 

"  The  sure  traveller, 
Though  he  alight  sometimes,  still  goeth  on." 

HERBERT. 

"A    RACK 

•    Now  like  autumnal  leaves  before  the  blast 
Wide  scattered." 

SPKA.GUK. 

THUMP,  thump,  crash !  One  hour  longer,  and  I 
*was  at  length  completely  roused  from  a  troublous 
slumber  by  our  boat  coming  to  a  dead  stop.  Cast- 
ing a  glance  from  the  window,  the  bright  flashing 
of  moonlight  showed  the  whole  surface  of  the  stream 
covered  with  drift-wood,  and,  on  inquiry,  I  learned 
that  the  branches  of  an  enormous  oak,  some  sixty 
feet  in  length,  had  become  entangled  with  one  of 
the  paddle-wheels  of  our  steamer,  and  forbade  all 
advance. 

We  were  soon  once  more  in  motion ;  the  morn- 
ing mists  were  dispersing,  the  sun  rose  up  behind 
the  forests,  and  his  bright  beams  danced  lightly 
over  the  gliding  waters.  We  passed  many  pleas- 
ant little  villages  along  the  banks,  and  it  was  de- 
lightful to  remove  from  the  noise,  and  heat,  and 
confusion  below  to  the  lofty  hurricane  deck,  and 
lounge  away  hour  after  hour  in  gazing  upon  the 
varied  and  beautiful  scenes  which  presented  them- 
selves in  constant  succession  to  the  eye.  Now 
we  were  gliding  quietly  on  through  the  long  island 
C2 


80  THE   PAR  WEST. 

chutes,  where  the  daylight  was  dim,  and  the  enor- 
mous forest-trees  bowed  themselves  over  us,  and 
echoed  from  their  still  recesses  the  roar  of  our 
steam-pipe ;  then  we  were  sweeping  rapidly  over 
the  broad  reaches  of  the  stream,  miles  in  extent ; 
again  we  were  winding  through  the  mazy  laby- 
rinth of  islets  which  fleckered  the  placid  surface 
of  the  stream,  and  from  time  to  time  we  passed  the 
lonely  cabin  of  the  emigrant  beneath  the  venerable 
and  aged  sycamores.  Here  and  there,  as  we  glided 
on,  we  met  some  relic  of  those  ancient  and  prim- 
itive species  of  river-craft  which  once  assumed 
ascendency  over  the  waters  of  the  West,  but  which 
are  now  superseded  by  steam,  and  are  of  too  in- 
frequent occurrence  not  to  be  objects  of  peculiar 
interest.  In  the  early  era  of  the  navigation  of  the 
Ohio,  the  species  of  craft  in  use  were  numberless, 
and  many  of  them  of  a  most  whimsical  and  amusing 
description.  The  first  was  the  barge,  sometimes 
of  an  hundred  tons'  burden,  which  required  twenty 
men  to  force  it  up  against  the  current  a  distance  of 
six  or  seven  miles  a  day ;  next  the  keel-boat,  of 
smaller  size  and  lighter  structure,  yet  in  use  for 
the  purposes  of  inland  commerce ;  then  the  Ken- 
tucky flat,  or  broad-horn  of  the  emigrant ;  the  enor- 
mous ark,  in  magnitude  and  proportion  approxi- 
mating to  that  of  the  patriarch  ;  the  fairy  pirogue 
of  the  French  voyageur ;  the  birch  caique  of  the 
Indian,  and  log  skiffs,  gondolas,  and  dug-outs  of  the 
pioneer  without  name  or  number.  But  since  the 
introduction  of  steam  upon  the  Western  waters, 
most  of  these  unique  and  primitive  contrivances 


THE    FAR   WEST.  31 

have  disappeared ;  and  with  them,  too,  has  gone 
that  singular  race  of  men  who  were  their  naviga- 
tors. Most  of  the  younger  of  the  settlers,  at  this 
early  period  of  the  country,  devoted  themselves  to 
this  profession.  Nor  is  there  any  wonder  that  the 
mode  of  life  pursued  by  these  boatmen  should  have 
presented  irresistible  seductions  to  the  young  peo- 
ple along  the  banks.  Fancy  one  of  these  huge 
boats  dropping  lazily  along  with  the  current  past 
their  cabins  on  a  balmy  morning  in  June.  Picture 
to  your  imagination  the  gorgeous  foliage ;  the  soft, 
delicious  temperature  of  the  atmosphere;  the  deep 
azure  of  the  sky  ;  the  fertile  alluvion,  with  its  stu- 
pendous forests  and  rivers;  the  romantic  bluffs 
sleeping  mistily  in  blue  distance ;  the  clear  waters 
rolling  calmly  adown,  with  the  woodlands  outlined 
in  shadow  on  the  surface ;  the  boat  floating  leis- 
urely onward,  its  heterogeneous  crew  of  all  ages 
dancing  to  the  violin  upon  the  deck,  flinging  out 
their  merry  salutations  among  the  settlers,  who 
come  down  to  the  water's  edge  to  see  the  pageant 
pass,  until,  at  length,  it  disappears  behind  a  point 
of  wood,  and  the  boatman's  bugle  strikes  up  its 
note,  dying  in  distance  over  the  waters ;  fancy  a 
scene  like  this,  and  the  wild  bugle-notes  echo- 
ing and  re-echoing  along  the  bluffs  and  forest 
shades  of  the  beautiful  Ohio,  and  decide  whether  it 
must  not  have  possessed  a  charm  of  fascination 
resistless  to  the  youthful  mind  in  these  lonely  soli- 
tudes. No  wonder  that  the  severe  toils  of  agricul- 
tural life,  in  view  of  such  scenes,  should  have  be- 
come tasteless  and  irksome.*  The  lives  of  these 

*  *  Flint. 


32  .         THE    FAR   WEST. 

boatmen  were  lawless  and  dissolute  to  a  proverb. 
They  frequently  stopped  at  the  villages  along  their 
course,  and  passed  the  night  in  scenes  of  wild  rev- 
elry and  merriment.  Their  occupation,  more  than 
any  other,  subjected  them  to  toil,  and  exposure,  and 
privation;  and,  more  than  any  other,  it  indulged 
them,  for  days  in  succession,  with  leisure,  and  ease, 
and  indolent  gratification.  Descending  the  stream, 
they  floated  quietly  along  without  an  effort,  but  in 
ascending  against  the  powerful  current  their  life 
was  an  uninterrupted  series  of  toil.  The  boat,  we 
are  told,  was  propelled  by  poles,  against  which  the 
shoulder  was  placed  and  the  whole  strength  ap- 
plied ;  their  bodies  were  naked  to  the  waist,  for 
enjoying  the  river-breeze  and  for  moving  with  fa- 
cility ;  and,  after  the  labour  of  the  day,  they  swal- 
lowed their  whiskey  and  supper,  and  throwing 
themselves  upon  the  deck  of  the  boat,  with  no  other 
canopy  than  the  heavens,  slumbered  soundly  on  till 
the  morning.  Their  slang  was  peculiar  to  the 
race,  their  humour  and  power  of  retort  was  re- 
markable, and  in  their  frequent  battles  with  the 
squatters  or  with  their  fellows,  their  nerve  and 
courage  were  unflinching. 

It  was  in  the  year  1811  that  the  steam-engine 
commenced  its  giant  labours  in  the  Valley  of  the 
West,  and  the  first  vessel  propelled  by  its  agency 
glided  along  the  soft- flowing  wave  of  the  beautiful 
river.  Many  events,  we  are  told,  united  to  render 
this  year  a  most  remarkable  era  in  the  annals  of 
Western  history.*  The  spring- freshet  of  the  rivers 
buried  the  whole  valley  from  Pittsburgh  to  New- 

*  Latrobe.  • 


THE    FAR    WEST.  33 

Orleans  in  a  flood  ;  and  when  the  waters  subsided 
unparalleled  sickness  and  mortality  ensued.  A 
mysterious  spirit  of  restlessness  possessed  the  den- 
izens of  the  Northern  forests,  and  in  myriads  they 
migrated  towards  the  South  and  West.  The  mag- 
nificent comet  of  the  year,  seeming,  indeed,  to  ver- 
ify the  terrors  of  superstition,  and  to  "  shake  from 
its  horrid  hair  pestilence  and  war,"  all  that  sum- 
mer was  beheld  blazing  along  the  midnight  sky, 
and  shedding  its  lurid  twilight  over  forest  and 
stream  ;  and  when  the  leaves  of  autumn  began  to 
rustle  to  the  ground,  the  whole  vast  Valley  of  the 
Mississippi  rocked  and  vibrated  in  earthquake-con- 
vulsion !  forests  bowed  their  heads  ;  islands  disap- 
peared from  their  sites,  and  new  one's  rose ;  im- 
mense lakes  and  hills  were  formed  ;  the  graveyard 
gave  up  its  sheeted  and  ghastly  tenants ;  huge 
relics  of  the  mastodon  and  megalonyx,  which  for 
ages  had  slumbered  in  the  bosom  of  earth,  were 
heaved  up  to  the  sunlight;  the  blue  lightning 
streamed  and  the  thunder  muttered  along  the  lead- 
en sky,  and,  amid  all  the  elemental  war,  the  mighty 
current  of  the  "  Father  of  Waters"  for  hours  rolled 
back  its  heaped-up  floods  towards  its  source  1  All 
this  was  the  prologue  to  that  mighty  drama  of 
Change  which,  from  that  period  to  the  present, 
has  been  sweeping  over  the  Western  Valley;  it 
was  the  fearful  welcome-home  to  that  all-powerful 
agent  which  has  revolutionized  the  character  of 
half  a  continent ;  for  at  that  epoch  of  wonders,  and 
amid  them  all,  the  first  steamboat  was  seen  de- 
scending the  great  rivers,  and  the  awe-struck  In- 


34  THE   FAR   WEST. 

dian  on  the  banks  beheld  the  Pinelore  flying  through 
the  troubled  waters.*  The  rise  and  progress  of  the 
steam-engine  is  without  a  parallel  in  the  history  of 
modern  improvement.  Fifty  years  ago,  and  the 
prophetic  declaration  of  Darwin  was  pardoned 
only  as  the  enthusiasm  of  poetry  ;  it  is  now  little 
more  than  the  detail  of  reality : 

*'  Soon  shall  thy  arm,  unconquer'd  steam,  afar 
Drag  the  slow  barge  or  drive  the  rapid  car  ; 
Or  on  wide-waving  wings  expanded  bear 
,.    The  flying  chariot  through  the  fields  of  air ; 
Fair  crews  triumphant,  leaning  from  above, 
Shall  wave  their  fluttering  kerchiefs  as  they  move. 
Or  warrior  bands  alarm  the  gaping  crowd, 
And  armies  shrink  beneath  the  shadowy  cloud." 

The  steam-engine,  second  only  to  the  press  in 
power,  has  in  a  few  years  anticipated  results 
throughout  the  New  World  which  centuries,  in 
the  ordinary  course  of  cause  and  event,  would  have 
failed  to  produce.  The  dullest  forester,  even  the 
cold,  phlegmatic  native  of  the  wilderness,  gazes 
upon  its  display  of  beautiful  mechanism,  its  majes- 
tic march  upon  its  element,  and  its  sublimity  of 
power,  with  astonishment  and  admiration. 

Return  we  to  the  incidents  of  our  passage.  Du- 
ring the  morning  of  our  third  day  upon  the  Ohio  we 

*  The  first  steamer  upon  the  waters  of  the  Red  River  was  of  a 
peculiar  construction :  her  steam  scape-pipe,  instead  of  ascending 
perpendicularly  from  the  hurricane  deck,  projected  from  the  bow, 
and  terminated  in  the  form  of  a  serpent's  head.  As  this  monster 
ascended  the  wilds  of  the  stream,  with  her  furnaces  blazing,  pour- 
ing forth  steam  with  a  roar,  the  wondering  Choctaws  upon  the 
banks  gave  her  the  poetic  and  appropriate  name  of  Pinelore,  "th« 
Fire-Canoe." 


THE    FAR  WEST.  35 

passed,  among  others,  the  villages  of  Rome,  Troy, 
and  Rockport.  The  latter  is  the  most  considera- 
ble place  of  the  three,  notwithstanding  imposing 
titles.  It  is  situated  upon  a  green  romantic  spot, 
the  summit  of  a  precipitous  pile  of  rocks  some  hun- 
dred feet  in  height,  from  which  sweeps  off  a  level 
region  of  country  in  the  rear.  Here  terminates 
that  series  of  beautiful  bluffs  commencing  at  the 
confluence  of  the  mountain-streams,  and  of  which 
so  much  has  been  said.  A  new  geological  forma- 
tion commences  of  a  bolder  character  than  any 
before  ;  and  the  face  of  the  country  gradually  as- 
sumes those  features  which  are  found  near  the 
mouth  of  the  river.  Passing  Green  River  with 
its  emerald  waters,  its  "  Diamond  Island,"  the 
largest  in  the  Ohio,  and  said  to  be  haunted,  and 
very  many  thriving  villages,  among  which  was 
Hendersonville,  for  some  time  the  residence  of 
Audubon,  the  ornithologist,  we  found  ourselves 
near  midday  at  the  mouth  of  the  smiling  Wabash, 
its  high  bluffs  crowned  with  groves  of  the  walnut 
and  pecan,  the  carya  olivceformis  of  Nuttal,  and 
its  deep-died  surface  reflecting  the  yet  deeper  tints 
of  its  verdure-clad  banks,  as  the  far-winding  stream 
gradually  opened  upon  the  eye,  and  then  retreated 
in  the  distance.  The  confluence  of  the  streams  is 
at  a  beautiful  angle ;  and,  on  observing  the  scene, 
the  traveller  will  remark  that  the  forests  upon  one 
bank  are  superior  in  magnitude  to  those  on  the 
other,  though  of  the  same  species.  The  appear- 
ance is  somewhat  singular,  and  the  fact  is  to  be 
accounted  for  only  from  the  reason  that  the  soil 


36  THE    FAR  WEST. 

differs  in  alluvial  character.  It  has  been  thought 
that  no  stream  in  the  world,  for  its  length  and  mag- 
nitude, drains  a  more  fertile  and  beautiful  country 
than  the  Wabash  and  its  tributaries.  Emigrants 
are  rapidly  settling  its  banks,  and  a  route  has  been 
projected  for  uniting  by  canal  its  waters  with  those 
of  Lake  Erie  ;  surveys  by  authority  of  the  State  of 
Indiana  have  been  made,  and  incipient  measures 
taken  preparatory  to  carrying  the  work  into  exe- 
cution. 

About  one  hundred  miles  from  the  mouth  of  the 
Wabash  is  situated  the  village  of  New-Harmony, 
far  famed  for  the  singular  events  of  which  it  has 
been  the  scene.  It  is  said  to  be  situated  on  a  broad 
and  beautiful  plateau  overlooking  the  stream,  sur- 
rounded by  a  fertile  and  heavily-timbered  country, 
and  blessed  with  an  atmosphere  of  health.  It  was 
first  settled  in  1814  by  a  religious  sect  of  Germans 
called  Harmonites,  resembling  the  Moravians  in 
their  tenets,  and  under  the  control  of  George  Rapp, 
in  whose  name  the  land  was  purchased  and  held. 
They  were  about  eight  hundred  in  number,  and  soon 
erected  a  number  of  substantial  edifices,  among 
which  was  a  huge  House  of  Assemblage  an  hun- 
dred feet  square.  They  laid  out  their  grounds  with 
beautiful  regularity,  and  established  a  botanic  gar- 
den and  an  extensive  greenhouse.  For  ten  years 
the  Harmonites  continued  to  live  and  labour  in  love, 
in  the  land  of  their  adoption,  when  the  celebra- 
ted Robert  Dale  Owen,  of  Scotland,  came  among 
them,  and,  at  the  sum  of  one  hundred  and  ninety 
thousand  dollars,  purchased  the  establishment  en- 
tire. His  design  was  of  rearing  i5p  a  community 


THE   FAR   WEST.  37 

upon  a  plan  styled  by  him  the  "  Social  System." 
The  peculiar  doctrines  he  inculcated  were  a  per- 
fect equality,  moral,  social,  political,  and  religious. 
He  held  that  the  promise  of  never-ending  love  upon 
marriage  was  an  absurdity ;  that  children  should 
become  no  impediment  to  separation,  as  they  were 
to  be  considered  members  of  the  community  from 
their  second  year ;  that  the  society  should  have  no 
professed  religion,  each  individual  being  indulged 
in  his  own  faith,  and  that  all  temporal  possessions 
should  be  held  in  'common.  On  one  night  of  every 
week  the  whole  community  met  and  danced ;  and 
on  another  they  united  in  a  concert  of  music,  while 
the  Sabbath  was  devoted  to  philosophical  lectures. 
Many  distinguished  individuals  are  said  to  have 
written  to  the  society  inquiring  respecting  its  prin- 
ciples and  prospects,  and  expressing  the  wish  at  a 
future  ^ay  to  unite  with  it  their  destinies.  Mr. 
Owen  was  sanguine  of  success.  On  the  4th  of 
July,  1826,  he  promulgated  his  celebrated  declara- 
tion of  mental  independence  ;  a  document  which, 
for  absurdity,  has  never,  perhaps,  been  paralleled. 
But  all  was  in  vain.  Dissension  insinuated  itself 
among  the  members ;  one  after  another  dropped 
off  from  the  community,  until  at  length  Mr.  Owen 
retired  in  disgust,  and,  at  a  vast  sacrifice,  disposed 
of  the  establishment  to  a  wealthy  Scotch  gentleman 
by  the  name  of  M'Clure,  a  former  coadjutor.  Thus 
was  abandoned  the  far-famed  social  system,  which 
for  a  time  was  an  object  of  interest  and  topic  of 
remark  all  over  the  United  States  and  even  in  Eu- 
rope. The  Duke  of  Saxe  Weimar  passed  here  a 
VOL.  I.— D 


38  THE    FAR   WEST* 

week  in  the  spring  of  1826,  and  has  given  a  de- 
tailed and  amusing  description  of  his  visit. 

About  ten  miles  below  the  mouth  of  the  Wabash 
is  situated  the  village  of  Shawneetown,  once  a  fa- 
vourite dwelling-spot  of  the  turbulent  Shawnee  In- 
dian, the  tribe  of  Tecumseh.  Quite  a  village  once 
stood  here ;  but,  for  some  cause  unknown,  it  was 
forsaken  previous  to  its  settlement  by  the  French, 
and  two  small  mounds  are  the  only  vestige  of  its 
existence  which  are  now  to  be  seen.  A  trading- 
post  was  established  by  the  early  Canadian  voy- 
ageurs ;  but,  on  account  of  the  sickliness  of  the 
site,  was  abandoned,  and  the  spot  was  soon  once 
more  a  wilderness.  In  the  early  part  of  1812  a 
land-office  was  here  located,  and  two  years  sub- 
sequent a  town  was  laid  off  by  authority  of  Con- 
gress, and  the  lots  sold  as  other  public  lands. 
Since  then  it  has  been  gradually  becoming  the 
commercial  emporium  of  southern  Illinois.  The 
buildings,  among  which  are  a  very  conspicuous 
bank,  courthouse,  and  a  land-office  for  the  south- 
ern district  of  Illinois,  are  scattered  along  upon  a 
gently  elevated  bottom,  swelling  up  from  the  river 
to  the  bluffs  in  the  rear,  but  sometimes  submerged. 
From  this  latter  cause  it  has  formerly  been  subject 
to  disease ;  it  is  now  considered  healthy ;  is  the 
chief  commercial  port  in  this  section  of  the  state, 
and  is  the  principal  point  of  debarkation  for  emi- 
grants for  the  distant  West.  Twelve  miles  in  its 
rear  are  situated  the  Gallatin  Salines,  from  which 
the  United  States  obtains  some  hundred  thousands 
of  bushels  of  salt  annually.  It  is  manufactured  by 


THE    FAR    WEST.  39 

the  evaporation  of  salt  water.  This  is  said  to 
abound  over  the  whole  extent  of  this  region,  yield- 
ing from  one  eighth  to  one  twelfth  of  its  weight  in 
pure  muriate  of  soda.  In  many  places  it  bursts 
forth  in  perennial  springs ;  but  most  frequently  is 
obtained  by  penetrating  with  the  augur  a  depth  of 
from  three  to  six  hundred  feet  through  the  solid 
limestone  substratum,  when  a  copper  tube  is  intro- 
duced, and  the  strongly-impregnated  fluid  gushes 
violently  to  the  surface.  In  the  vicinity  of  these 
salines  huge  fragments  of  earthenware,  apparently 
of  vessels  used  in  obtaining  salt,  and  bearing  the 
impress  of  wickerwork,  have  been  thrown  up  from 
a  considerable  depth  below  the  surface.  Appear- 
ances of  the  same  character  exist  near  Portsmouth, 
in  the  State  of  Ohio,  and  other  places.  Their  ori- 
gin is  a  mystery !  the  race  which  formed  them  is 
departed ! 
Ohio  River. 


40  THE    FAR   WEST. 


IV. 

"  Who  can  paint 

Like  Nature  1     Can  imagination  boast, 
Amid  its  gay  creations,  hues  like  hers  1 
Or  can  it  mix  them  with  that  matchless  skill, 
And  lose  them  in  each  other,  as  appears 
In  every  bud  that  blooms  1" 

THOMSON. 

"  Precipitous,  black,  jagged  rocks, 
For  ever  shattered,  and  the  same  for  ever." 

COLERIDGE. 

IT  was  near  noon  of  the  third  day  of  our  passage 
that  we  found  ourselves  in  the  vicinity  of  that  sin- 
gular series  of  massive  rock  formations,  stretching 
along  for  miles  upon  the  eastern  bank  of  the  stream. 
The  whole  vast  plain,  extending  from  the  Northern 
Lakes  to  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio,  and  from  the  Alle- 
ghany  slope  to  the  boundless  prairies  of  the  far 
West,  is  said  by  geologists  to  be  supported  by  a  bed 
of  horizontal  limestone  rock,  whose  deep  strata  have 
never  been  completely  pierced,  though  penetrated 
many  hundred  feet  by  the  augur.  This  limestone  is 
hard,  stratified,  imbedding  innumerable  shells  of  the 
terebratula3,  encrinites,  orthocerites,  trilobites,  pro- 
ductus,  and  other  species.  Throughout  most  of  its 
whole  extent  it  supports  a  stratum  of  bituminous 
coal,  various  metals,  and  saline  impregnations :  its 
constant  decomposition  has  fertilized  the  soil,  and 
its  absorbent  and  cavernous  nature  has  prevented 
swamps  from  accumulating  upon  the  surface.  Such, 
in  general  outline,  is  this  vast  lime*rock  substratum 


THE    FAR    WEST.  41 

of  the  Western  Valley.  It  generally  commences 
but  a  few  feet  below  the  vegetable  deposite ;  at 
other  places  its  range  is  deeper,  while  at  intervals 
it  rises  from  the  surface,  and  frowns  in  castellated 
grandeur  over  objects  beneath.  These  huge  masses 
of  limestone  sometimes  exhibit  the  most  picturesque 
and  remarkable  forms  along  the  banks  of  the  west- 
ern rivers,  and  are  penetrated  in  many  places  by 
vast  caverns.  The  region  we  were  now  approach- 
ing was  a  locality  of  these  singular  formations,  and 
for  miles  before  reaching  it,  as  has  been  remarked, 
a  change  in  scenery  upon  the  eastern  bank  is  ob- 
served. Instead  of  the  rounded  wooded  summits 
of  the  "Ohio  hills"  sweeping  beautifully  away 
in  the  distance,  huge,  ponderous  rocks,  heaped  up 
in  ragged  masses,  "  Pelion  upon  Ossa,"  are  beheld 
rearing  themselves  abruptly  from  the  stream,  and 
expanding  their  Briarean  arms  in  every  direction. 
Some  of  these  cliffs  present  a  uniform,  jointed 
surface,  as  if  of  masonry,  resembling  ancient  ed- 
ifices, and  reminding  the  traveller  of  the  giant 
ruins  of  man's  creations  in  another  hemisphere, 
while  others  appear  just  on  the  point  of  toppling 
into  the  river.  Among  this  range  of  crags  is  said 
to  hang  an  iron  coffin,  suspended,  like  Mohammed's, 
between  heaven  and  earth.  It  contains  the  re- 
mains of  a  man  of  singular  eccentricity,  who,  pre- 
vious to  his  decease,  gave  orders  that  they  should 
be  deposited  thus ;  and  the  gloomy  object  at  the 
close  of  the  year,  when  the  trees  are  stripped  of 
their  foliage,  may  be  perceived,  it  is  said,  high  up 
among  the  rocks  from  the  deck  of  the  passing 
D2 


42  THE    FAR   WEST. 

steamer.  This  story  probably  owes  its  origin  to 
an  event  of  actual  occurrence  somewhat  similar, 
at  a  clifFcalled  by  the  river-pilots  "  Hanging  Rock." 
It  is  situated  in  the  vicinity  of  "  Blennerhasset's  Isl- 
and." The  first  of  these  singular  cliffs,  called  "  Bat- 
tery Rock,"  stretches  along  the  river-bank  for  half 
a  mile,  presenting  a  uniform  and  perpendicular  fa- 
$ade  upward  of  eighty  feet  in  height.  The  appear- 
ance is  striking,  standing,  as  it  does,  distinct  from 
anything  of  a  kindred  character  for  miles  above 
and  for  some  distance  below.  Passing  several  fine 
farms,  which  sweep  down  to  the  water's  edge,  a 
second  range  of  cliffs  are  discovered,  similar  to 
those  described  in  altitude  and  aspect;  but  near 
the  base,  through  the  dark  cypresses  skirting  the 
water,  is  perceived  the  ragged  entrance  to  a  large 
cavernous  fissure,  penetrating  the  bluff,  and  desig- 
nated by  the  name  of  "  Rock-Inn-Cave."  It  is 
said  to  have  received  this  significant  appellation 
from  emigrants,  who  were  accustomed  to  tarry 
with  their  families  for  weeks  at  the  place  when 
detained  by  stress  of  weather,  stage  of  the  river, 
or  any  other  circumstance  unfavourable  to  their 
progress. 

It  was  near  noon  of  a  beautiful  day  when  the 
necessary  orders  for  landing  were  issued  to  the 
pilot,  and  our  boat  rounded  up  to  the  low  sand- 
beach  just  below  this  celebrated  cavern.  As  we 
strolled  along  the  shore  beneath  "  the  precipitous, 
black,  jagged  rocks"  overhanging  the  winding  and 
broken  pathway  towards  the  entrance,  we  could 
not  but  consider  its  situation  wild  and  rugged 
enough  to  please  the  rifest  fancy:  The  entrance, 


THE    FAR    WEST.  43 

at  first  view,  is  exceedingly  imposing  ;  its  broad 
massive  forehead  beetling  over  the  visiter  for  some 
yards  before  he  finds  himself  within.  The  mouth 
of  the  cavern  looks  out  upon  the  stream  rushing 
along  at  the  base  of  the  cliff,  and  is  delightfully 
shaded  by  a  cluster  of  cypresses,  rearing  aloft  their 
huge  shafts,  almost  concealed  in  the  luxuriant  ivy- 
leaves  clinging  to  their  bark.  The  entrance  is 
formed  into  a  semi-elliptical  arch,  springing  boldly 
to  the  height  of  forty  feet  from  a  heavy  bench  of 
rock  on  either  side,  and  eighty  feet  in  width  at 
the  base,  throwing  over  the  whole  a  massive  roof  of 
uniform  concavity,  verging  to  a  point  near  the  cen- 
tre of  the  cave.  Here  may  be  seen  another  open- 
ing of  some  size,  through  which  trickles  a  limpid 
stream,  and  forming  an  entrance  to  a  second  cham- 
ber, said  to  be  more  extensive  than  that  below. 
The  extreme  length  of  this  cavern  is  given  by 
Schoolcraft  as  one  hundred  and  sixty  feet,  the  floor, 
the  roof,  and  the  walls  gradually  tapering  to  a 
point.  The  rock  is  a  secondary  limestone,  abound- 
ing with  testacea  and  petrifactions,  a  fine  speci- 
men of  which  I  struck  from  the  ledge  while  the 
rest  of  our  party  were  recording  their  names  among 
the  thousand  dates  and  inscriptions  with  which  the 
walls  are  defaced. 

Like  all  other  curiosities  of  Nature,  this  cavern 
was,  by  the  Indian  tribes,  deemed  the  residence  of 
a  Manito*  or  spirit,  evil  or  propitious,  concerning 

*  It  is  a  remarkable  circumstance,  that  this  term  is  employed  to 
signify  the  same  thing  by  all  the  tribes  from  the  Arkansas  to  the 
sources  of  the  Mississippi ;  and,  according  to  Mackenzie,  through- 
out the  Arctic  Regions. 


44  THE    FAR    WEST. 

whom  many  a  wild  legend  yet  lives  among  their 
simple-hearted  posterity.  They  never  passed  this 
dwelling-place  of  the  divinity  without  discharging 
their  guns  (an  ordinary  mark  of  respect),  or  ma- 
king some  other  offering  propitiatory  of  his  favour. 
These  tributary  acknowledgments,  however,  are 
never  of  much  value.  The  view  of  the  stream 
from  the  left  bench  at  the  cave's  mouth  is  most 
beautiful.  J  ID  mediately  in  front  extends  a  large 
and  densely-wooded  island,  known  by  the  name 
of  the  Cave,  while  the  soft-gliding  waters  flow  be- 
tween, furnishing  a  scene  of  natural  beauty  wor- 
thy an  Inman's  pencil ;  and,  if  I  mistake  not,  an 
engraving  of  the  spot  has  been  published,  a  fe- 
rocious-looking personage,  pistol  in  hand,  crouched 
at  the  entrance,  eagerly  watching  an  ascending 
boat.  This  design  originated,  doubtless,  in  the 
tradition  yet  extant,  that  in  the  latter  part  of  the 
last  century  this  cavern  was  the  rendezvous  of 
a  notorious  band  of  freebooters  which  then  in- 
fested the  region,  headed  by  the  celebrated  Mason, 
plundering  the  boats  ascending  from  New-Orleans 
and  murdering  their  crews.  From  these  circum- 
stances this  cave  has  become  the  scene  of  a 
poem  of  much  merit,  called  the  "Outlaw,"  and 
has  suggested  a  spirited  tale  from  a  popular  wri- 
ter. Many  other  spots  in  the  vicinity  were  no- 
torious, in  the  early  part  of  the  present  century, 
for  the  murder  and  robbery  of  travellers,  whose 
fate  long  remained  enveloped  in  mystery.  On 
the  summit  of  a  lofty  bluff,  not  far  from  the  "  Bat- 
tery Rock,"  was  pointed  out  to  us  a  solitary  house, 
with  a  single  chimney  rising  from  its  roof.  Its 


THE    FAR    WEST.  45 

white  walls  may  be  viewed  for  miles  before  reach- 
ing the  place  on  descending  the  river.  It  was  here 
that  the  family  of  Sturdevant  carried  on  their  ex- 
tensive operations  as  counterfeiters  for  many  years 
unsuspected  ;  and  on  this  spot,  in  1821,  they  expia- 
ted their  crimes  with  their  lives.  A  few  miles  be- 
low is  a  place  called  "  Ford's  Ferry,"  where  mur- 
der, robbery,  forgery,  and  almost  every  crime  in 
the  calendar  were  for  years  committed,  while  not 
a  suspicion  of  the  truth  was  awakened.  Ford  not 
only  escaped  unsuspected,  but  was  esteemed  a 
most  exemplary  man.  Associated  with  him  were 
his  son  and  two  other  individuals,  named  Simpson 
and  Shouse.  They  are  all  now  gone  to  their  ac- 
count. The  old  man  was  mysteriously  shot  by 
some  person  who  was  never  discovered,  but  was 
supposed  to  have  been  Simpson,  between  whom, 
and  himself  a  misunderstanding  had  arisen.  If  it 
were  so,  the  murderer  was  met  by  fitting  retribu- 
tion, for  he  fell  in  a  similar  manner.  Shouse  and 
the  son  of  Ford  atoned  upon  the  gallows  their 
crimes  in  1 833.  Before  reaching  this  spot  the  trav- 
eller passes  a  remarkable  mass  of  limestone  called 
"  Tower  Rock."  It  is  perpendicular,  isolated,  and 
somewhat  cylindrical  in  outline.  It  is  many  feet 
in  altitude,  and  upon  its  summit  tradition  avers  to 
exist  the  ruins  of  an  antique  tumulus ;  an  altar, 
mayhap,  of  the  ancient  forest-sons,  where 

"  Garlands,  ears  of  maize,  and  skins  of  wolf 
And  shaggy  bear,  the  offerings  of  the  tribe 
Were  made  to  the  Great  Spirit." 

In  the  vicinity  of  the  cliff  called  «  Tower  Rock," 
and  not  far  from  hurricane  Island,  is  said  to  exist  a 


46  THE    FAR   WEST. 

. « 

remarkable  cavern  of  considerable  extent.  The 
cave  is  entered  by  an  orifice  nine  feet  in  width  and 
twelve  feet  high ;  a  bench  of  rock  is  then  ascended  a 
few  feet,  and  an  aperture  of  the  size  of  an  ordinary 
door  admits  the  visiter  into  a  spacious  hall.  In 
the  mouth  of  the  cavern,  on  the  fa£ade  of  the  cliff, 
at  the  altitude  of  twenty-five  feet,  are  engraved  fig- 
ures resembling  a  variety  of  animals,  as  the  bear,  the 
buffalo,  and  even  the  lion  and  lioness.  All  this  I  saw 
nothing  of,  and  am,  of  course,  no  voucher  for  its 
existence ;  but  a  writer  in  the  Port  Folio,  so  long 
since  as  1816,  states  the  fact,  and,  moreover,  adds 
that  the  engraving  upon  the  rock  was  executed  in 
"  a  masterly  style." 

From  this  spot  the  river  stretches  away  in  a  long 
delightful  reach,  studded  with  beautiful  islands, 
among  which  "  Hurricane  Island,"  a  very  large 
one,  is  chief.  Passing  the  compact  little  village  of 
Golconda  with  its  neat  courthouse,  and  the  mouth 
of  the  Cumberland  River  with  its  green  island, 
once  the  rendezvous  of  Aaron  Burr  and  his  chival- 
rous band,  we  next  reached  the  town  of  Paducah, 
at  the  outlet  of  the  Tennessee.  This  is  a  place  of 
importance,*  though  deemed  unhealthy :  it  is  said 
to  have  derived  its  name  from  a  captive  Indian 
woman,  who  was  here  sacrificed  by  a  band  of 
the  Pawnees  after  having  been  assured  of  safety. 
About  eight  miles  below  Paducah  are  situated  the 
ruins  of  Fort  Massac,  once  a  French  military  post 
of  importance.  There  is  a  singular  legend  re- 
specting this  fort  still  popular  among  the  inhabitants 
of  the  neighbouring  region,  the  outlines  of  which 

*  It  has  since  been  nearly  destroyed  by  fire. 


THE    FAR    WEST.  47 

are  the  following :  The  fortress  was  erected  by  the 
French  while  securing  possession  of  the  Western 
Valley,  and,  soon  after,  hostilities  arising  between 
them  and  the  natives,  the  latter  contrived  a  strata- 
gem, in  every  respect  worthy  the  craft  and  subtlety 
of  the  race,  to  obtain  command  of  this  stronghold. 
Early  one  morning  a  body  of  Indians,  enveloped 
each  in  a  bearskin,  appeared  upon  the  opposite  bank 
of  the  Ohio.     Supposing  them  the  animal  so  faith- 
fully represented,  the  whole  French  garrison  in  a 
mass  sallied  incontinently  forth,  anticipating  rare 
sport,  while  the  remnant  left  behind  as  a  guard 
gathered  themselves  upon  the  glacis  as  spectators 
of  the  scene.     Meanwhile,  a  large  body  of  Indians, 
concealed  in  rear  of  the  fort,  slipped  silently  from 
their  ambush,  and  few  were  there  of  the  French 
who  escaped  to  tell  the  tale  of  the  scene  that  en- 
sued.    They  were  massacred  almost  to  a  man,  and 
hence  the  name  of  Massac  to  the  post.     During 
the  war  of  the  revolution  a  garrison  was  stationed 
upon  the  spot  for  some  years,  but  the  structures 
are  now  in  ruins.    A  few  miles  below  is  a  small 
place  consisting  of  a  few  farmhouses,  called  Wil- 
kinsonville,  on  the   site   where  Fort   Wilkinson 
once  stood  ;  just   opposite,  along  the   shore,  com- 
mences the  "  Grand  Chain"  of  rocks  so  famous  to 
the  Ohio  pilot,  extending  four  miles.     The  little 
village  of  Caledonia  is  here  laid  off  among  the 
bluffs.     It  has  a  good  landing,  and  is  the  proposed 
site  of  a  marine  hospital. 

It  was  sunset  when  we  arrived  at  the  confluence 
of  the  rivers.  In  course  of  the  afternoon  we  had 
been  visited  by  a  violent  thunder-gust,  accompanied 


48  THE    FAR  WEST. 

by  hail.  But  sunset  came,  and  the  glorious  "  bow 
of  the  covenant"  was  hung  out  upon  the  dark  bosom 
of  the  clouds,  spanning  woodland  and  waters  with 
its  beautiful  hues.  And  yet,  though  the  hour  was 
a  delightful  one,  the  scene  did  not  present  that  as- 
pect of  vastness  and  sublimity  which  was  anticipa- 
ted from  the  celebrity  of  the  streams.  For  some 
miles  before  uniting  its  wraters  with  the  Mississip- 
pi, the  Ohio  presents  a  dull  and  uninteresting  ap- 
pearance. It  is  no  longer  the  clear,  sparkling 
stream,  with  bluffs  and  woodland  painted  on  its 
surface ;  the  volume  of  its  channel  is  greatly  in- 
creased by  its  union  with  two  of  its  principal  trib- 
utaries, and  its  waters  are  turbid ;  its  banks  are 
low,  inundated,  and  clothed  with  dark  groves  of 
deciduous  forest-trees,  and  the  only  sounds  which 
issue  from  their  depths  to  greet  the  traveller's  ear 
are  the  hoarse  croakings  of  frogs,  or  the  dull  mo- 
notony of  countless  choirs  of  moschetoes.  Thus 
rolls  on  the  river  through  the  dullest,  dreariest, 
most  uninviting  region  imaginable,  until  it  sweeps 
away  in  a  direction  nearly  southeast,  and  meets 
the  venerable  Father  of  the  West  advancing  to  its 
embrace.  The  volume  of  water  in  each  seems 
nearly  the  same;  the  Ohio  exceeds  a  little  in 
breadth,  their  currents  oppose  to  each  other  an 
equal  resistance,  and  the  resultant  of  the  forces  is 
a,  vast  lake  more  than  two  miles  in  breadth,  where 
the  united  waters  slumber  quietly  and  magnificently 
onward  for  leagues  in  a  common  bed.  On  the  right 
come  rolling  in  the  turbid  floods  of  the  Mississippi ; 
and  on  looking  upon  it  for  the  first  time  with  pre- 
conceived ideas  of  the  magnitude  of  the  mightiest 


THE    FAR  WEST.  49 

river  on  the  globe,  the  spectator  is  always  disap- 
pointed. He  considers  only  its  breadth  when  com- 
pared with  the  Ohio,  without  adverting  to  its  vast 
depth.  The  Ohio  sweeps  in  majestically  from  the 
north,  and  its  clear  waters  flow  on  for  miles  with- 
out an  intimate  union  with  its  turbid  conqueror. 
The  characteristics  of  the  two  streams  are  dis- 
tinctly marked  at  their  junction  and  long  after. 
The  banks  of  both  are  low  and  swampy,  totally 
unfit  for  culture  or  habitation.  "  Willow  Point," 
which  projects  itself  into  the  confluence,  presents 
an  elevation  of  twenty  feet;  yet,  in  unusual  in- 
undations, it  is  completely  buried  six  feet  below 
the  surface,  and  the  agitated  waters,  rolling  to- 
gether their  masses,  form  an  enormous  lake.  How 
strange  it  seemed,  while  gazing  upon  the  view 
I  have  attempted  to  delineate,  now  fading  away 
beneath  the  summer  twilight — how  very  strange 
was  the  reflection  that  these  two  noble  streams, 
deriving  their  sources  in  the  pellucid  lakes  and  the 
clear  icy  fountains  of  their  highland-homes,  mean- 
dering majestically  through  scenes  of  nature  and 
of  art  unsurpassed  in  beauty,  and  draining,  and 
irrigating,  and  fertilizing  the  loveliest  valley  on  the 
globe — how  strange,  that  the  confluence  of  the  wa- 
ters of  such  streams,  in  their  onward  rolling  to  the 
deep,  should  take  place  at  almost  the  only  stage  in 
their  course  devoid  entirely  of  interest  to  the  eye 
or  the  fancy  ;  in  the  heart  of  a  dreary  and  extended 
swamp,  waving  with  the  gloomy  boughs  of  the  cy- 
press, and  enlivened  by  not  a  sound  but  the  croak- 
ing of  bullfrogs,  and  the  deep,  surly  misery  note  of 
VOL.  L— E 


50  THE    FAR   WEST. 

moschetoes !  Willow  Point  is  the  property  of  a 
company  of  individuals,  who  announce  it  their  in- 
tention to  elevate  the  delta  above  the  power  of  in- 
undations, and  here  to  locate  a  city.  There  are  as 
yet,  however,  but  a  few  storehouses  on  the  spot ; 
and  when  we  consider  the  incalculable  expense 
the  only  plan  for  rendering  it  habitable  involves, 
we  can  only  deem  the  idea  of  a  city  here  as  the 
chimera  of  a  Utopian  fancy.  For  more  than 
twelve  miles  above  the  confluence,  the  whole  al- 
luvion is  annually  inundated,  and  forbids  all  im- 
provement ;  but  were  this  site  an  elevated  one,  a 
city  might  here  be  founded  which  should  command 
the  immense  commerce  of  these  great  rivers,  and 
become  the  grand  central  emporium  of  the  West- 
ern Valley. 

Upon  the  first  elevated  land  above  the  conflu- 
ence stands  the  little  town  called  America.  This 
is  the  proposed  terminus  to  the  grand  central  rail- 
road of  the  Internal  Improvement  scheme  of  Illi- 
nois, projected  to  pass  directly  through  the  state, 
uniting  its  northern  extremity  with  the  southern. 
The  town  is  said  to  have  been  much  retarded  in 
its  advancement  by  the  circumstance  of  a  sand-bar 
obstructing  the  landing.  It  has  been  contemplated 
to  cut  a  basin,  extending  from  the  Ohio  to  a  stream 
called  "  Humphrey's  Creek,"  which  passes  through 
the  place,  and  thus  secure  a  harbour.  Could  this 
plan  be  carried  into  execution,  America  would 
soon  become  a  town  of  importance. 

Ohio  River. 


THE    FAR    WEST.  51 


V. 

"The  groves  were  God's  first  temples." 

BRYANT. 

"  Oh  !  it's  hame,  and  it's  hame,  it's  hame  wad  I  be, 
Hame,  hame,  hame,  to  my  ain  countrie." 

CUNNINGHAM. 

«  Those  Sabbath  bells,  those  Sabbath  bells, 
I  hear  them  wake  the  hour  of  prime." 

LAMB. 
"She  walks  the  waters  like  a  thing  of  life." 

BYRON. 

IT  was  late  before  we  had  passed  the  confluence 
of  the  Ohio  with  the  dark-rolling  tide  of  the  "  end- 
less river,"  and  the  mellow  gorgeousness  of  summer 
sunset  had  gently  yielded  to  the  duskiness  of  twi- 
light, and  that  to  the  inky  pall  of  night.  The  moon 
had  not  risen,  and  the  darkness  became  gradually 
so  dense  that  doubts  were  entertained  as  to  the  pru- 
dence of  attempting  to  stem  the  mighty  current  of 
the  Mississippi  on  such  a  night.  These,  however, 
were  overruled  ;  and,  sweeping  around  the  low 
peninsula  of  Cairo,  our  steamer  met  the  torrent  and 
quivered  in  every  limb.  A  convulsed,  motionless 
struggle  ensued,  in  which  the  heavy  labouring  of 
the  engine,  the  shrill  whistle  of  the  safety-valve, 
the  quick,  querulous  crackling  of  the  furnaces,  the 
tumultuous  rushing  of  the  wheels,  and  the  stern 
roar  of  the  scape- pipe,  gave  evidence  of  the  fearful 
power  summoned  up  to  overcome  the  flood.  At 

length  we  began  very  slowly  to  ascend  the  stream. 
i 

LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS 


52  THE    FAR   WEST. 

Our  speed  was  about  five  miles  an  hour,  and  the 
force  of  the  current  nearly  the  same,  which  so  im- 
pedes advancement  that  it  requires  as  long  to  as- 
cend from  the  confluence  to  St.  Louis  as  to  de- 
scend to  the  same  point  from  the  Falls,  though  the 
distance  is  less  than  half.  All  night  our  steamer 
urged  herself  slowly  onward  against  the  current, 
and  the  morning  found  us  threading  a  narrow  chan- 
nel amid  a  cluster  of  islands,  from  whose  dense 
foliage  the  night-mists  were  rising  and  settling  in 
dim  confusion.  Near  the  middle  of  the  stream, 
above  this  collection,  lays  a  very  large  island,  com- 
prising eight  or  ten  thousand  acres.  It  is  called 
English  Island  ;  is  heavily  timbered  ;  huge  vines  of 
the  wild  grape  are  leaping  like  living  things  from 
branch  to  branch,  and  the  wild  pea  flourishes  all 
over  the  surface  of  the  soil  in  most  luxuriant  pro- 
fusion. The  stream  here  expands  itself  to  the 
breadth  of  four  miles,  and  abounds  with  islands. 

As  the  morning  advanced  the  sun  burst  glori- 
ously forth  from  the  mists ;  and  as  I  gazed  with 
tranquillized  delight  upon  the  beautiful  scenery  it 
unrolled,  I  remembered  that  it  was  the  morning  of 
the  Sabbath — the  peaceful  Sabbath.  It  is  a  sweet 
thing  to  pass  the  hours  of  holy  time  amid  the  elo- 
quent teachings  of  inanimate  nature.  It  is  pleasant 
to  yield  up  for  a  season  the  sober  workings  of  rea- 
son to  the  warm  gushings  of  the  heart,  and  to  suffer 
the  homage  of  the  soul  to  go  up  before  the  Author 
of  its  being  unfettered  by  the  chill  formalities,  the 
bustling  parade,  the  soulless  dissembling  of  the 
unbending  courtesies  of  ordinary  life.  Amid  the 


THE    FAR   WEST.  53 

Crowded  assemblage,  there  is  but  little  of  that  hum- 
bleness of  spirit  and  that  simple-hearted  fervour  of 
worship  which  it  is  in  man  to  feel  when  commu- 
ning within  the  shadowy  solitudes  of  Nature  with 
his  God.  There  are  moments,  too,  when  the  soul 
of  man  is  called  back  from  the  heartlessness  of  life, 
and  pours  forth  its  emotions,  gush  upon  gush,  in  all 
the  hallowed  luxuriance  of  its  nature ;  when,  from 
the  fevered  turmoil  of  daily  existence,  it  retires  to 
well  up  its  sympathies  alone  beneath  the  covert 
of  a  lulled  and  peaceful  bosom  ;  and  surely  such  a 
season  is  the  calm,  waveless  hour  of  Sabbath  sa- 
credness.  And  it  is  a  blessed  appointment  that, 
in  a  world  whose  quietude  too  often  is  disturbed 
by  the  untamed  heavings  of  unholy  feeling,  there 
should  yet  be  moments  when  the  agitated  events  of 
the  past  are  forgotten,  when  the  apprehensions  of 
the  future  are  unthought  of,  and  the  generous  emo- 
tions of  the  heart  are  no  more  repressed.  Such 
moments  are  the  crystal  fount  of  the  oasis,  girt, 
indeed,  by  the  sands  and  barrenness  of  the  desert ; 
yet  laughing  forth  in  tinkling  melody  amid  its 
sprinkled  evergreens,  in  all  the  sparkling  freshness 
of  mimic  life,  to  bathe  the  languid  lip  of  the  weary 
one.  Such  moments  are  the  mellow  radiance  of  the 
departing  sun  when  the  trials  of  the  day  are  over ; 
and  tenderly  and  softly  do  their  influences  descend 
upon  the  heart.  Like  the  pure  splendour  of  the  star 
of  even,  how  calmly  does  the  sacred  Sabbath-time 
beam  out  from  the  dark,  unquiet  firmament  of 
life  !  'Tis  the  blessed  rainbow  of  promise  and  of 
consolation  amid  the  rough  storms  of  our  pilgrim- 
*  E2 


54  THE   FAR  WEST. 

age,  and  its  holy  influences  elicit  all  the  untold 
richness  of  the  heart.  It  is  a  season  soft  as  the 
memorial  of  buried  affection,  mild  as  the  melody 
Of  departed  years,  pure  as  the  prayer  of  feebleness 
from  the  lip  of  childhood,  beautiful  as  yon  floating 
islet  sleeping  in  sunset  radiance  on  the  blue  even- 
ing wave.  "  Gone,  gone  for  ever  I"  Another 
Sabbath  is  over,  and  from  its  gathering  shades  it  is 
good  to  cast  back  a  glance  of  reflection. 

A  company  of  emigrants,  in  course  of  the  morn- 
ing, were  landed  from  our  boat  at  a  desolate-look- 
ing spot  upon  the  Missouri  shore ;  men,  women,  and 
little  ones,  with  slaves,  household  stuff,  pots,  kettles, 
dogs,  implements  of  husbandry,  and  all  the  para- 
phernalia of  the  backwood's  farm  heaped  up  pro- 
miscuously in  a  heterogeneous  mass  among  the 
undergrowth  beneath  the  lofty  trees.  A  similar 
party  from  the  State  of  Vermont  were,  during  our 
passage,  landed  near  the  mouth  of  the  Wabash,one 
of  whom  was  a  pretty,  delicate  female,  with  an  in- 
fant boy  in  her  arms.  They  had  been  deck-passen- 
gerSj  and  we  had  seen  none  of  them  before;  yet 
their  situation  could  not  but  excite  interest  in  their 
welfare.  Poor  woman!  thought  I,  as  our  boat  left 
them  gazing  anxiously  after  us  from  the  inhospi- 
table bank,  little  do  you  dream  of  the  trials  and  the 
privations  to  which  your  destiny  conducts,  and  the 
hours  of  bitter  retrospection  which  are  to  come 
over  your  spirit  like  a  blight,  as,  from  these  cheer- 
less solitudes,  you  cast  back  many  a  lingering 
thought  to  your  dear,  distant  home  in  New-Eng- 
land ;  whose  very  mountain-crags  and  fierce  storms 


THE    FAR    WEST.  55 

of  winter,  harsh  and  unwelcome  though  they  might 
seem  to  the  stranger,  were  yet  pleasant  to  you : 

"  My  native  land  !  my  native  land  ! 
Though  bare  and  bleak  thou  be, 
And  scant  and  cold  thy  summer  smile, 
Thou'rt  all  the  world  to  me." 

A  few  years,  and  all  this  will  have  passed  away. 
A  new  home  and  new  ties  will  have  sprung  up  in 
the  wilderness  to  sooth  the  remembrance  of  the  old. 
This  broad  valley  will  swarm  with  population ;  the 
warm  breath  of  man  will  be  felt  upon  the  cheek,  and 
his  tread  will  be  heard  at  the  side ;  the  glare  of  civil- 
ization and  the  confused  hum  of  business  will  have 
violated  these  solitudes  and  broken  in  upon  their 
gloom,  and  here  empire  shall  have  planted  her 
throne  ;  and  then,  perchance,  that  playful  boy  upon 
the  bosom  may  rise  to  wield  the  destinies  of  his  fel- 
lows. But  many  a  year  of  toil  and  privation  must 
first  have  passed  away  ;  and  who  shall  record  their 
annals?  A  thousand  circumstances,  all  unlooked 
for,  will  seize  upon  the  feelings  of  the  emigrant ;  the 
harshness  of  strangers,  the  cold  regard  of  recent  ac- 
quaintance, the  absence  of  relatives  and  of  friends 
long  cherished,  the  distance  which  separates  him 
from  his  native  home,  and  the  dreary  time  which 
must  elapse  between  all  communications  of  the 
pen.  And  then  the  sweet  chime  of  the  Sabbath- 
bell  of  New-England,  pealing  out  in  "  angels'  mu- 
sic"*  on  the  clear  mountain-air,  to  usher  in  the 
hours  of  holy  time,  and  to  summon  the  soul  of 
man  to  communion  with  its  Maker;  will  this  be 
heard  amid  the  forest  solitude  ?  and  all  that  quiet 

"*         *  Herbert. 


56  THE    FAR    WEST. 

intermingling  of  heart  with  heart  which  divests 
grief  of  half  its  bitterness  by  taking  from  it  all 
its  loneliness  ?  And  the  hour  of  sickness,  and  of 
death,  and  of  gushing  tears,  as  they  come  to  all, 
may  not  be  absent  here  ;  and  where  are  the  sooth- 
ing consolations  of  religious  solemnity,  and  the 
sympathies  of  kindred  souls,  and  the  unobtrusive 
condolence  of  those  who  alone  may  enter  the  inner 
temple  of  the  breast,  where  the  stranger  intermed- 
dleth  not?  Yes,  it  must  be — notwithstanding  the 
golden  anticipations  indulged  by  every  humble  em- 
igrant to  this  El  Dorado  of  promise — it  must  be  that 
there  will  arise  in  his  bosom,  when  he  finds  himself 
for  the  first  time  amid  these  vast  forest  solitudes, 
attended  only  by  his  wife  and  children,  a  feeling  of 
unutterable  loneliness  and  desertion.  Until  this 
moment  he  has  been  sustained  by  the  buoyancy  of 
anticipated  success,  the  excitement  of  change,  the 
enlivening  influences  of  new  and  beautiful  scenes ; 
and  the  effect  of  strange  faces  and  strange  customs 
has  been  to  divert  the  attention,  while  the  farewell 
pressure  of  affection  yet  has  warmly  lingered.  All 
this  is  over  now,  and  his  spirit,  left  to  its  own  re- 
sources, sinks  within  him.  The  sacred  spot  of 
his  nativity  is  far,  far  away  towards  the  morn- 
ing sun ;  and  there  is  the  village  church  and  the 
village  graveyard,  hallowed  by  many  a  holy  re- 
membrance ;  there,  too,  are  the  playmates  and  the 
scenes  of  his  boyhood-days ;  the  trysting-place  of 
youthful  love  and  of  youthful  friendship,  spots 
around  which  are  twined  full  many  a  tendril  of  his 
heart ;  and  he  has  turned  from  them  all  for  ever. 
Henceforth  he  is  a  wanderer,  and  a' distant  soil  must 


THE    FAR  WEST.  57 

claim  his  ashes.  He  who,  with  such  reflections, 
yearns  not  for  the  home  of  his  fathers,  is  an  alien, 
and  no  true  son  of  New-England. 

It  was  yet  early  in  the  morning  of  our  first  day 
upon  the  Mississippi  that  we  found  ourselves  be- 
neath the  stately  bluff  upon  which  stands  the  old 
village  of  Cape  Girardeau.  Its  site  is  a  bold  bank 
of  the  stream,  gently  sloping  to  the  water's  edge, 
upon  a  substratum  of  limerock.  A  settlement 
was  commenced  on  this  spot  in  the  latter  part  of 
the  last  century.  Its  founders  were  of  French  and 
German  extraction,  though  its  structures  do  not 
betray  their  origin.  The  great  earthquakes  of 
1811,  which  vibrated  through  the  whole  length  of 
the  Western  Valley,  agitated  the  site  of  this  vil- 
lage severely ;  many  brick  houses  were  shatter- 
ed, chimneys  thrown  down,  and  other  damage  ef- 
fected, traces  of  the  repairs  of  which  are  yet  to  be 
viewed.  The  place  received  a  shock  far  more  se- 
vere, however,  in  the  removal  of  the  seat  of  justice 
to  another  town  in  the  county  :  but  the  landing  is 
an  excellent  one ;  iron  ore  and  other  minerals  are 
its  staples  of  trade,  and  it  is  again  beginning  to  as- 
sume a  commercial  character.  The  most  remark- 
able objects  which  struck  our  attention  in  passing 
this  place  were  several  of  those  peculiarly  novel 
mills  put  in  motion  by  a  spiral  water-wheel,  acted 
on  by  the  current  of  the  river.  These  screw- 
wheels  float  upon  the  surface  parallel  to  the  shore, 
rising  or  falling  with  the  water,  and  are  connected 
with  the  gearing  in  the  millhouse  upon  the  bank 
by  a  long  shaft.  The  action  of  the  current  upon 


58  THE   FAR  WEST, 

the  spiral  thread  of  the  wheel  within  its  external 
casing  keeps  it  in  constant  motion,  which  is  com- 
municated by  the  shaft  to  the  machinery  of  the 
mills.  The  contrivance  betrays  much  ingenuity, 
and  for  purposes  where  a  motive  of  inconsiderable 
power  is  required,  may  be  useful ;  but  for  driving 
heavy  millstones  or  a  saw,  the  utility  is  more  than 
problematical. 

In  the  vicinity  of  Cape  Girardeau  commences 
what  is  termed  the  "  Tyowapity  Bottom,"  a  cele- 
brated section  of  country  extending  along  the  Mis- 
souri side  of  the  stream  some  thirty  miles,  and 
abounding  with  a  peculiar  species  of  potter's  clay, 
unctuous  in  its  nature,  exceedingly  pure  and  white, 
and  plastic  under  the  wheel.  This  stratum  of  clay 
is  said  to  vary  from  one  foot  to  ten  in  depth,  rest- 
ing upon  sandstone,  and  covered  by  limestone 
abounding  in  petrifactions.  A  manufactory  is  in 
operation  at  Cape  Girardeau,  in  which  this  sub- 
stance is  the  material  employed.  Near  the  north- 
ern extremity  of  this  bottom  the  waters  of  the  Mud- 
dy River  enter  the  Mississippi  from  Illinois.  This 
stream  was  discovered  by  the  early  French  voy- 
ageurs,  and  from  them  received  the  name  of  Riv- 
iere au  Vase,  or  Vaseux.  It  is  distinguished  for  the 
salines  upon  its  banks,  for  its  exhaustless  beds  of 
bituminous  coal,  for  the  fertility  of  the  soil,  and  for 
a  singularly-formed  eminence  among  the  bluffs  of 
the  Mississippi,  a  few  miles  from  its  mouth.  Its 
name  is  "  Fountain  Bluff?  derived  from  the  cir- 
cumstance that  from  its  base  gush  out  a  number 
of  limpid  springs.  It  is  said  to  measure  eight  miles 


THE    FAR    WEST.  59 

In  circumference,  and  to  have  an  altitude  of  several 
hundred  feet.  Its  western  declivity  looks  down 
upon  the  river,  and  its  northern  side  is  a  precipi- 
tous crag,  while  that  upon  the  south  slopes  away 
to  a  fertile  plain,  sprinkled  with  farms. 

A  few  miles  above  the  Big  Muddy  stands  out 
from  the  Missouri  shore  a  huge  perpendicular  col- 
umn of  limestone,  of  cylindrical  formation,  about 
one  hundred  feet  in  circumference  at  the  base,  and 
in  height  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet,  called  the 
"  Grand  Tower."  Upon  its  summit  rests  a  thin  stra- 
tum of  vegetable  mould,  supporting  a  shaggy  crown 
of  rifted  cedars,  rocking  in  every  blast  that  sweeps 
the  stream,  whose  turbid  current  boils,  and  chafes, 
and  rages  at  the  obstruction  below.  This  is  the 
first  of  that  celebrated  range  of  heights  upon  the 
Mississippi  usually  pointed  out  to  the  tourist, 
springing  in  isolated  masses  from  the  river's  brink 
upon  either  side,  and  presenting  to  the  eye  a  suc- 
cession of  objects  singularly  grotesque.  There  are 
said  to  exist,  at  this  point  upon  the  Mississippi,  in- 
dications of  a  huge  parapet  of  limestone  having 
once  extended  across  the  stream,  which  must  have 
formed  a  tremendous  cataract,  and  effectually  in- 
undated all  the  alluvion  above.  At  low  stages  of 
the  water  ragged  shelves,  which  render  the  navi- 
gation dangerous,  are  still  to  be  seen.  Among  the 
other  cliffs  along  this  precipitous  range  which  have 
received  names  from  the  boatmen  are  the  "  Devil's 
Oven,"  «  Teatable,"  "  Backbone,"  &c.,  which,  with 
the  "Devil's  Anvil,"  "Devil's  Island,"  &c.,  indi- 
cate pretty  plainly  the  divinity  most  religiously  pro- 


60  THE    FAR    WEST. 

pitiated  in  these  dangerous  passes.  The  "  Oven" 
consists  of  an  enormous  promontory  of  rock,  about 
one  hundred  feet  from  the  surfa  e  of  the  river,  with 
a  hemispherical  orifice  scooped  out  of  its  face, 
probably  by  the  action,  in  ages  past,  of  the  whirl- 
ing waters  now  hurrying  on  below.  It  is  situated 
upon  the  left  bank  of  the  stream,  about  one  mile 
above  the  "  Tower,"  and  is  visible  from  the  river. 
In  front  rests  a  huge  fragment  of  the  same  rock, 
and  in  the  interval  stands  a  dwelling  and  a  garden 
spot.  The  "  Teatable"  is  situated  at  some  dis- 
tance below,  and  the  other  spots  named  are  yet 
lower  upon  the  stream.  This  whole  region  bears 
palpable  evidence  of  having  been  subjected,  ages 
since,  to  powerful  volcanic  and  diluvial  action; 
and  neither  the  Neptunian  or  Vulcanian  theory 
can  advance  a  superior  claim. 

For  a  long  time  after  entering  the  dangerous  de- 
file in  the  vicinity  of  the  Grand  Tower,  through 
which  the  current  rushes  like  a  racehorse,  our 
steamer  writhed  and  groaned  against  the  torrent, 
hardly  advancing  a  foot.  At  length,  as  if  by  a  sin- 
gle tremendous  effort,  which  caused  her  to  quiver 
and  vibrate  to  her  centre,  an  onward  impetus  was 
gained,  the  boat  shot  forward,  the  rapids  were  over- 
come, and  then,  by  chance,  commenced  one  of 
those  perilous  feats  of  rivalry,  formerly,  more  than 
at  present,  frequent  upon  the  Western  waters,  JL 
RACE.  Directly  before  us,  a  steamer  of  a  large 
class,  deeply  laden,  was  roaring  and  struggling 
against  the  torrent  under  her  highest  pressure. 
During  our  passage  we  had  several  times  passed 
and  repassed  each  other,  as  either  boat  was  delayed 


THE    FAR   WEST.  61 

at  the  various  woodyards  along  the  route;  but  now, 
as  the  evening  came  on,  and  we  found  ourselves 
gaining  upon  our  antagonist,  the  excitement  of  em- 
ulation flushed  every  cheek.  The  passengers  and 
crew  hung  clustering,  in  breathless  interest,  upon 
the  galleries  and  the  boiler  deck,  wherever  a  post  for 
advantageous  view  presented  ;  while  the  hissing 
valves,  the  quick,  heavy  stroke  of  the  piston,  the 
sharp  clatter  of  the  eccentric^  and  the  cool  deter- 
mination of  the  pale  engineer,  as  he  glided  like  a 
spectre  among  the  fearful  elements  of  destruction, 
gave  evidence  that  the  challenge  was  accepted. 
But  there  was  one  humble  individual,  above  all 
others,  whose  whole  soul  seemed  concentrated  in 
the  contest,  as  from  time  to  time,  in  the  intervals 
of  toil,  his  begrimed  and  working  features  were 
caught,  glaring  through  the  lurid  light  of  the  fur- 
naces he  was  feeding.  This  was  no  less  a  person- 
age than  the  doughty  fireman  of  our  steamer ;  a 
long,  lanky  individual,  with  a  cute  cast  of  the  eye, 
a  knowing  tweak  of  the  nose,  and  an  interminable 
longitude  of  phiz.  His  checkered  shirt  was  drench- 
ed with  perspiration  ;  a  huge  pair  of  breeches,  be- 
girdling  his  loins  by  means  of  a  leathern  belt,  cov- 
ered his  nether  extremities,  and  two  sinewy  arms 
of"  whipcord  and  bone"  held  in  suspension  a  spade- 
like  brace  of  hands.  During  our  passage,  more  than 
once  did  I  avail  myself  of  an  opportunity  of  study- 
ing the  grotesque,  good-humoured  visage  of  this 
unique  individual ;  and  it  required  no  effort  of  fancy 
to  imagine  I  viewed  before  me  some  lingering  rem- 
Eant  of  that  "  horse  and  alligator  race,"  now,  like 
VOL.  I.— F  1 


62  THE    FAR    WEST* 

the  poor  Indian,  fast  fading  from  the  West  before 
the  march  of  steamboats  and  civilization,  videlicet) 
"  the  Mississippi  boatman."  And,  on  the  occasion 
of  which  I  speak,  methought  I  could  catch  no  slight 
resemblance  in  my  interesting  fireman,  as  he  flour- 
ished his  ponderous  limbs,  to  that  faithful  portrait- 
ure of  his  majesty  of  the  Styx  in  Tooke's  Panthe- 
on !  though,  as  touching  this  latter,  I  must  confess 
me  of  much  dubiety  in  boyhood  days,  with  the 
worthy  "  gravedigger"  Young,  having  entertained 
shrewd  suspicions  whether  the  "tyrant  ever  sat." 

But  in  my  zeal  for  the  honest  Charon  I  am  for- 
getting the  exciting  subject  of  the  race.  During 
my  digression,  the  ambitious  steamers  have  been 
puffing,  and  sweating,  and  glowing  in  laudable  ef- 
fort, to  say  nothing  of  stifled  sobs  said  to  have  is- 
sued from  their  labouring  bosoms,  until  at  length 
a  grim  smile  of  satisfaction  lighting  up  the  rugged 
features  of  the  worthy  Charon,  gave  evidence  that 
not  in  vain  he  had  wielded  his  mace  or  heaved  his 
wood.  A  dense  mist  soon  after  came  on,  and  the 
exhausted  steamers  were  hauled  up  at  midnight 
beneath  the  venerable  trees  upon  the  banks  of  the 
stream.  On  the  first  breakings  of  dawn  all  was 
again  in  motion.  But,  alas  !  alas  \  in  spite  of  all 
the  strivings  of  our  valorous  steamer,  it  soon  be- 
came but  too  evident  that  her  mighty  rival  must 
prevail,  as  with  distended  jaws,  like  to  some  huge 
fish,  she  came  rushing  up  in  our  wake,  as  if  our 
annihilation  were  sure.  But  our  apprehensions 
proved  groundless ;  like  a  civil,  well-behaved  rival, 
*he  speeded  on,  hurling  forth  a  triple  bob-major  of 


THE    PAR   WEST.  63 

curses  at  us  as  she  passed,  doubtless  by  way  of 
salvo,  and  disappeared  behind  a  point.  When  to 
this  circumstance  is  added  that  a  long-winded  racer 
of  a  mail-boat  soon  after  swept  past  us  in  her  on- 
ward course,  and  left  us  far  in  the  rear,  I  shall  be 
believed  when  it  is  stated  that  the  steamer  on  which 
we  were  embarked  was  distinguished  for  anything 
but  speed  ;  a  circumstance  by  none  regretted  less 
than  by  myself. 
Mississippi  River. 


VI. 

"  I  linger  yet  with  Nature." 

MANFRED. 

"  Onward  still  I  press, 

Follow  thy  windings  still,  yet  sigh  for  more." 

GOETHE. 

"  God's  my  life,  did  you  ever  hear  the  like  ! 
What  a  strange  man  is  this  !" 

BEN  JONSON. 

BUT  a  very  few  years  have  passed  away  since 
the  navigation  of  the  Mississippi  was  that  of  one  of 
the  most  dangerous  streams  on  the  globe;  but, 
thanks  to  the  enterprising  genius  of  the  scientific 
Shreve,  this  may  no  longer  with  truth  be  said.  In 
1824  the  first  appropriation*  was  voted  by  Congress 
for  improving  the  navigation  of  the  Western  rivers ; 
and  since  that  period  thousands  of  snags,  sawyers, 

*  $105,000. 


64  THE    FAR   WEST. 

planters,  sand-bars,  sunken  rocks,  and  fallen  trees 
have  been  removed,  until  all  that  now  remains  is  to 
prevent  new  obstacles  from  accumulating  where  the 
old  have  been  eradicated.  For  much  of  its  course 
in  its  lower  sections,  the  Mississippi  is  now  quite 
safe  ;  and  as  the  progress  of  settlements  advances 
upon  its  banks,  the  navigation  of  this  noble  stream 
will  doubtless  become  unobstructed  in  its  whole 
magnificent  journey  from  the  falls  of  the  "  Laughing 
Water"  to  the  Mexican  Gulf.  The  indefatigable 
industry,  the  tireless  perseverance,  the  indomitable 
enterprise,  and  the  enlarged  and  scientific  policy 
of  Captain  Shreve,  the  projector  and  accomplisher 
of  the  grand  national  operations  upon  the  Western 
rivers,  can  never  be  estimated  beyond  their  merit. 
The  execution  of  that  gigantic  undertaking,  the  re- 
moval of  the  Red  River  Raft,  has  identified  his  his- 
tory with  that  of  the  empire  West ;  his  fame  will 
endure  so  long  as  those  magnificent  streams,  with 
which  his  name  is  associated,  shall  continue  to  roll 
on  their  volumed  waters  to  the  deep. 

These  remarks  have  been  suggested  by  scenes 
of  constant  recurrence  to  the  traveller  on  the  Mis- 
sissippi. The  banks,  the  forests,  the  islands  all  dif- 
fer as  much  as  the  stream  itself  from  those  of  the 
soft-gliding  Ohio.  Instead  of  those  dense  emerald 
masses  of  billowy  foliage  swelling  gracefully  up 
from  the  banks  of  "  the  beautiful  river,"  those  of 
the  Mississippi  throw  back  a  rough,  ragged  out- 
line ;  their  sands  piled  with  logs  and  uprooted 
trees,  while  heaps  of  wreck  and  drift-wood  betray 
the  wild  ravages  of  the  stream.  In  the  midst  of 


THE    FAR   WEST.  65 

the  mass  a  single  enormous  sycamore  often  rears 
its  ghastly  limbs,  while  at  its  foot  springs  grace- 
fully up  a  light  fringe  of  the  pensile  willow. 
Sometimes,  too,  a  huge  sawyer,  clinging  upon  the 
verge  of  the  channel,  heaves  up  its  black  mass 
above  the  surface,  then  falls,  and  again  rises  with 
the  rush  of  the  current.  Against  one  of  these  saw- 
yers is  sometimes  lodged  a  mass  of  drift-wood, 
pressing  it  firmly  upon  the  bottom,  till,  by  a  con- 
stant accumulation,  a  foundation  is  gradually  laid 
and  a  new  island  is  formed :  this  again,  by  throw- 
ing the  water  from  its  course,  causes  a  new  chan- 
nel, which,  infringing  with  violence  upon  the  oppo- 
site bank,  undermines  it  with  its  colonnade  of 
enormous  trees,  and  thus  new  material  in  endless 
succession  is  afforded  for  obstructions  to  the  navi- 
gation. The  deposites  of  alluvion  along  the  banks 
betray  a  similar  origin  of  gradual  accumulation  by 
the  annual  floods.  In  some  sections  of  the  Ameri- 
can Bottom,  commencing  at  its  southern  extremity 
with  the  Kaskaskia  River,  the  mould,  upward  of 
thirty  feet  in  depth,  is  made  up  of  numerous  strata 
of  earth,  which  may  be  readily  distinguished  and 
counted  by  the  colours. 

About  twenty  miles  above  the  mouth  of  the  Kas- 
kaskia is  situated  Ste.  Genevieve,  grand  deposite 
of  the  lead  of  the  celebrated  ancient  mines  La 
Motte>  and  A' Burton,  and  others,  some  thirty  miles 
in  the  interior,  and  the  market  which  supplies  all 
the  mining  district  of  the  vicinity.  It  was  first 
commenced  about  the  year  1774  by  the  original 
settlers  of  Upper  Louisiana ;  and  the  Canadian 
i  F2 

1 


66  THE    FAR   WEST. 

French,  with  their  descendants,  constitute  a  larg<? 
portion  of  its  present  inhabitants.  The  population 
does  not  now  exceed  eight  hundred,  though  it  is 
once  said  to  have  numbered  two  thousand  inhabi- 
tants. Some  of  the  villagers  are  advanced  in 
years,  and  among  them  is  M.  Valle,  one  of  the 
chief  proprietors  of  Mine  la  Motte,  who,  though 
now  some  ninety  years  of  age,  is  almost  as  active 
as  when  fifty.  Ste.  Genevieve  is  situated  about 
one  mile  from  the  Mississippi,  upon  a  broad  allu- 
vial plain  lying  between  the  branches  of  a  small 
stream  called  Gabourie.  Beyond  the  first  bottom 
rises  a  second  steppe,  and  behind  this  yet  a  third, 
attaining  an  elevation  of  more  than  a  hundred  feet 
from  the  water's  edge.  Upon  this  elevated  site 
was  erected,  some  twenty  years  since,  a  handsome 
structure  of  stone,  commanding  a  noble  prospect 
of  the  river,  the  broad  American  Bottom  on  the 
opposite  side,  and  the  bluffs  beyond  the  Kaskaskia. 
It  was  intended  for  a  literary  institution ;  but, 
owing  to  unfavourable  reports  with  regard  to  the 
health  of  its  situation,  the  design  was  abandoned, 
and  the  edifice  was  never  completed.  It  is  now 
in  a  state  of  "  ruinous  perfection,"  and  enjoys 
the  reputation,  moreover,  of  being  haunted.  In 
very  sooth,  its  aspect,  viewed  from  the  river  at 
twilight,  with  its  broken  windows  outlined  against 
the  western  sky,  is  wild  enough  to  warrant  such  an 
idea  or  any  other.  A  courthouse  and  Catholic 
chapel  constitute  the  public  buildings.  To  the 
south  of  the  village,  and  lying  upon  the  river,  is 
situated  the  common  field,  originally  comprising 


THE    FAR  WEST.  67 

two  thousand  arpens ;  but  it  is  now  much  less  in 
extent,  and  is  yearly  diminishing  from  the  action 
of  the  current  upon  the  alluvial  banks.  These  com- 
mon fields  were  granted  by  the  Spanish  govern- 
ment, as  well  as  by  the  French,  to  every  village 
settled  under  their  domination.  A  single  enclosure 
at  the  expense  of  the  villagers  was  erected  and 
kept  in  repair,  and  the  lot  of  every  individual  was 
separated  from  his  neighbour's  by  a  double  furrow. 
Near  this  field  the  village  was  formerly  located  ; 
but  in  the  inundation  of  1785,  called  by  the  old 
habitans  "  ISannee  des  grandes  eaux"  so  much  of 
the  bank  was  washed  away  that  the  settlers  were 
forced  to  select  a  more  elevated  site.  The  Mis- 
sissippi was  at  this  time  swelled  to  thirty  feet  above 
the  highest  water-mark  before  known ;  and  the 
town  of  Kaskaskia  and  the  whole  American  Bot- 
tom were  inundated. 

Almost  every  description  of  minerals  are  to  be 
found  in  the  county,  of  which  Ste.  Genevieve  is  the 
seat  of  justice.  But  of  all  other  species,  iron  ore  is 
the  most  abundant.  The  celebrated  Iron  Mount- 
ain and  the  Pilot  Knob  are  but  forty  miles  distant. 
Abundance  of  coal  is  found  in  the  opposite  bluffs  in 
Illinois.  About  twelve  miles  from  the  village  has 
been  opened  a  quarry  of  beautiful  white  marble,  in 
some  respects  thought  not  inferior  to  that  of  Carra- 
ra. There  are  also  said  to  be  immense  caves  of 
pure  white  sand,  of  dazzling  lustre,  quantities  of 
which  are  transported  to  Pittsburg  for  the  manufac- 
ture of  flint  glass.  There  are  a  number  of  beau- 
tiful fountains  in  the  neighbourhood,  one  of  which 
is  said  to  be  of  s'ypassing  loveliness.  It  is  several 


68  THE    FAR  WEST. 

yards  square,  and  rushes  up  from  a  depth  of  fifteen 
or  twenty  feet,  enclosed  upon  three  sides  by  mass- 
es of  living  rock,  over  which,  in  pensile  graceful- 
ness, repose  the  long  glossy  branches  of  the  forest- 
trees. 

The  early  French  settlers  manufactured  salt  a 
few  miles  from  the  village,  at  a  saline  formerly  oc- 
cupied by  the  aborigines,  the  remains  of  whose 
earthen  kettles  are  yet  found  on  the  spot.  About 
thirty  years  since  a  village  of  the  Peoria  Indians 
was  situated  where  the  French  common  field  now 
stands  ;  and  from  the  ancient  mounds  found  in  the 
vicinity,  and  the  vast  quantities  of  animal  and  hu- 
man remains,  and  utensils  of  pottery  exhumed  from 
the  soil,  the  spot  seems  to  have  been  a  favourite 
location  of  a  race  whose  destiny,  and  origin,  and 
history  are  alike  veiled  in  oblivion.  The  view  of 
Ste.  Genevieve  from  the  water  is  picturesque  and 
beautiful,  and  its  landing  is  said  to  be  superior  to 
any  between  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio  and  the  city  of 
St.  Louis.  The  village  has  that  decayed  and 
venerable  aspect  characteristic  of  all  these  early 
French  settlements. 

As  we  were  passing  Ste.  Genevieve  an  accident 
occurred  which  had  nearly  proved  fatal  to  our  boat, 
if  not  to  the  lives  of  all  on  board  of  her.  A  race 
which  took  place  between  another  steamer  and  our 
own  has  been  noticed.  In  some  unaccountable 
manner,  this  boat,  which  then  passed  us,  fell  again  in 
the  rear,  and  now,  for  the  last  hour,  had  been  com- 
ing up  in  our  wake  under  high  steam.  On  overta- 
king us,  she  attempted,  contrary  to  all  rules  and  reg- 


THE    FAR    WEST.  69 

illations  for  the  navigation  of  the  river  provided, 
to  pass  between  our  boat  and  the  bank  beneath 
which  we  were  moving ;  an  outrage  which,  had 
it  been  persisted  in  a  moment  longer  than  was  for- 
tunately the  case,  would  have  sent  us  to  the  bot- 
tom. For  a  single  instant,  as  she  came  rushing  on, 
contact  seemed  inevitable  ;  and,  as  her  force  was 
far  superior  to  our  own,  and  the  recklessness  of 
many  who  have  the  guidance  of  Western  steamers 
was  well  known  to  us  all,  the  passengers  stood 
clustering  around  upon  the  decks,  some  pale  with 
apprehension,  and  others  with  firearms  in  their 
hands,  flushed  with  excitement,  and  prepared  to 
render  back  prompt  retribution  on  the  first  aggres- 
sion. The  pilot  of  the  hostile  boat,  from  his  ex- 
posed situation  and  the  virulent  feelings  against 
him,  would  have  met  with  certain  death ;  and  he, 
consequently,  contrary  to  the  express  injunctions  of 
the  master,  reversed  the  motion  of  the  wheels  just 
at  the  instant  to  avoid  the  fatal  rencounter.  The 
sole  cause  for  this  outrage,  we  subsequently  learned, 
was  a  private  pique  existing  between  the  pilots  of 
the  respective  steamers.  One  cannot  restrain  an 
expression  of  indignant  feeling  at  such  an  exhibition 
of  foolhardy  recklessness.  It  is  strange,  after  all 
the  fearful  accidents  of  this  description  upon  the 
Western  waters,  and  that  terrible  prodigality  of  hu- 
man life  which  for  years  past  has  been  constantly 
exhibited,  there  should  yet  be  found  individuals  so 
utterly  regardless  of  the  safety  of  their  fellow-men, 
and  so  destitute  of  every  emotion  of  generous  feel- 
ing, as  to  force  their  way  heedlessly  onward  into 


70  THE    FAR    WEST. 

danger,  careless  of  any  issue  save  the  paltry  grati- 
fication of  private  vengeance.  It  is  a  question 
daily  becoming  of  more  startling  import,  How  may 
these  fatal  occurrences  be  successfully  opposed  T 
Where  lies  the  fault?  Is  it  in  public  sentiment? 
Is  it  in  legal  enactment  ?  Is  it  in  individual  villa- 
ny?  However  this  may  be,  our  passage  seemed 
fraught  with  adventure,  of  which  this  is  but  an  in- 
cident. After  the  event  mentioned,  having  com- 
posed the  agitation  consequent,  we  had  retired  to 
our  berths,  and  were  just  buried  in  profound  sleep, 
when  crash — our  boat's  bow  struck  heavily  against 
a  snag,  which,  glancing  along  the  bottom,  threw 
her  at  once  upon  her  beams,  and  all  the  passengers 
on  the  elevated  side  from  their  berths.  No  serious 
injury  was  sustained,  though  alarm  and  confusion 
enough  were  excited  by  such  an  unceremonious 
turn-out.  The  dismay  and  tribulation  of  some  of 
our  worthy  company  were  entirely  too  ludicrous 
for  the  risibles  of  the  others,  and  a  hearty  roar  of 
cachinnation  was  heard  even  above  the  ejaculations 
of  distress;  a  very  improper  thing,  no  doubt,  and 
not  at  all  to  be  recommended  on  such  occasions, 
as  one  would  hardly  wish  to  make  a  grave  "  un- 
knell'd  and  uncoffin'd"  in  the  Mississippi,  with  a 
broad  grin  upon  his.  phiz. 

In  alluding  to  the  race  which  took  place  during 
our  passage,  honourable  mention  was  made  of  a 
certain  worthy  individual  whose  vocation  was  to 
feed  the  furnaces ;  and  one  bright  morning,  when, 
all  the  others  of  our  company  had  bestowed  them- 
selves in  their  berths  because  of  the  intolerable 


THE    FAR    WEST.  71 

heat,  I  took  occasion  to  visit  the  sooty  Charon  in 
the  purgatorial  realms  over  which  he  wielded  the 
sceptre.  "  Grievous  work  this  building  fires  under 
a  sun  like  that,"  was  the  salutation,  as  my  friend 
the  fireman  had  just  completed  the  toilsome  opera- 
tion once  more  of  stuffing  the  furnace,  while  floods 
of  perspiration  were  coursing  down  a  chest  hairy 
as  Esau's  in  the  Scripture,  and  as  brawny.  Here- 
upon honest  Charon  lifted  up  his  face,  and  drawing  a 
dingy  shirt  sleeve  with  emphasis  athwart  his  eyes, 
bleared  with  smut,  responded, "  Ay,  ay,  sir ;  it's  a  sin 
to  Moses,  such  a  trade ;"  and  seizing  incontinently 
upon  a  fragment  of  tin,  fashioned  by  dint  of  thump- 
ing into  a  polygonal  dipper  of  unearthly  dimensions, 
he  scooped  up  a  quantity  of  the  turbid  fluid  through 
which  we  were  moving,  and  deep,  deep  was  the 
potation  which,  like  a  succession  of  rapids,  went 
gurgling  down  his  throat.  Marvellously  refreshed, 
the  worthy  genius  dilated,  much  to  my  edification, 
upon  the  glories  of  a  fireman's  life.  "  Upon  this 
hint  I  spake"  touching  the  topic  of  our  recent  race  ; 
and  then  were  the  strings  of  the  old  worthy's  tongue 
let  loose  ;  and  vehemently  amplified  he  upon  "our 
smart  chance  of  a  gallop"  and  "  the  slight  sprinkling 
of  steam  he  had  managed  to  push  up."  "Ah, 
stranger,  I'll  allow,  and  couldn't  I  have  teetotally 
obfusticated  her,  and  right  mightily  used  her  up, 
hadn't  it  been  I  was  sort  of  bashful  as  to  keeping 
path  with  such  a  cursed  old  mud-turtle  !  But  it's 
all  done  gone ;"  and  the  droughty  Charon  seized 
another  swig  from  the  unearthly  dipper ;  and  closing 
hermetically  his  lantern  jaws,  and  resuming  his  in- 


72  THE    PAR  WEST. 

fernal  labours,  to  which  those  of  Alcmena's  son  of 
of  Tartarean  Sysiphus  were  trifles,  I  had  the  dis- 
cretion to  betake  myself  to  the  upper  world. 

During  the  night,  after  passing  Ste.  Genevieve, 
our  steamer  landed  at  a  woodyard  in  the  vicinity 
of  that  celebrated  old  fortress,  Fort  Chartres, 
erected  by  the  French  while  in  possession  of  Illi- 
nois ;  once  the  most  powerful  fortification  in  North 
America,  but  now  a  pile  of  ruins.  It  is  situated 
about  three  miles  from  Prairie  de  Rocher,  a  little 
antiquated  French  hamlet,  the  scene  of  one  of  Hall's 
Western  Legends.  We  could  see  nothing  of  the 
old  fort  from  our  situation  on  the  boat ;  but  its  vast 
ruins,  though  now  a  shattered  heap,  and  shrouded 
with  forest-trees  of  more  than  half  a  century's 
growth,  are  said  still  to  proclaim  in  their  finished 
and  ponderous  masonry  its  ancient  grandeur  and 
strength.  In  front  stretches  a  large  island  in  the 
stream,  which  has  received  from  the  old  ruin  a 
name.  It  is  not  a  little  surprising  that  there  exists 
no  description  of  this  venerable  pile  worthy  its  or- 
igin and  eventful  history. 

Mississippi  River. 


THE   FAR  WEST,  73 


VII. 

*'  The  hills  !  our  mountain-wall,  the  hills  !" 

Alpine  Omen, 

*'  But  thou,  exulting  and  abounding  river ! 
Making  thy  waves  a  blessing  as  they  flow 
Through  banks  whose  beauty  would  endure  for  ever, 
Could  man  but  leave  thy  bright  creation  so — " 

Ckilde  Harold. 

THERE  are  few  objects  upon  the  Mississippi 
in  which  the  geologist  and  natural  philosopher  may 
claim  a  deeper  interest  than  that  singular  series 
of  limestone  cliffs  already  alluded  to,  which,  above 
its  junction  with  the  Ohio,  present  themselves  to 
the  traveller  all  along  the  Missouri  shore.  The 
principal  ridge  commences  a  few  miles  above  Ste. 
Genevieve ;  and  at  sunrise  one  morning  we  found 
ourselves  beneath  a  huge  battlement  of  crags,  rising 
precipitously  from  the  river  to  the  height  of  several 
hundred  feet.  Seldom  have  I  gazed  upon  a  scene 
more  eminently  imposing  than  that  of  these  hoary 
old  cliffs,  when  the  midsummer-sun, rushing  upward 
from  the  eastern  horizon,  bathed  their  splintered 
pinnacles  and  spires  and  the  rifted  tree-tops  in  a 
flood  of  golden  effulgence.  The  scene  was  not 
unworthy  Walter  Scott's  graphic  description  of  the 
view  from  the  Trosachs  of  Loch  Katrine,  in  the 
"  Lady  of  the  Lake  :"  °  &? 

"  The  eastern  waves  of  rising  day 
Roll'd  o'er  the  stream  their  level  way ; 

VOL.  I.— G      * 


74  THE  FAR  WEST. 

Each  purple  peak,  each  flinty  spire, 
Was  bathed  in  floods  of  living  fire. 
*  *  *  *  # 

Their  rocky  summits,  split  and  rent, 

Form'd  turret,  dome,  or  battlement, 

Or  seem'd  fantastically  set 

With  cupola  or  minaret, 

Wild  crests  as  pagod  ever  decked 

Or  mosque  of  eastern  architect." 

All  of  these  precipices,  not  less  than  those  on  the 
Ohio,  betray  palpable  indication  of  having  once 
been  swept  by  the  stream  ;  and  the  fantastic  ex- 
cavations and  cavernous  fissures  which  their  bold 
escarpments  expose  would  indicate  a  current  far 
more  furious  and  headstrong  than  that,  resistless 
though  it  be,  which  now  rolls  at  their  base.  The 
idea  receives  confirmation  from  the  circumstance 
that  opposite  extends  the  broad  American  Bottom, 
whose  alluvial  character  is  undisputed.  This  tract 
once  constituted  our  western  border,  whence  the 
name. 

The  bluffs  of  Selma  and  Herculaneum  are  dis- 
tinguished for  their  beauty  and  grandeur,  not  less 
than  for  the  practical  utility  to  which  they  have 
been  made  subservient.  Both  places  are  great  de- 
positories of  lead  from  the  mines  of  the  interior, 
and  all  along  their  cliffs,  for  miles,  upon  every  eligi- 
ble point,  are  erected  tall  towers  for  the  manu- 
facture of  shot.  Their  appearance  in  distant  view 
is  singularly  picturesque,  perched  lightly  upon  the 
pinnacles  of  towering  cliffs,  beetling  over  the  flood, 
which  rushes  along  two  hundred  feet  below.  Some 
of  these  shot  manufactories  have  been  in  operation 


THE    FAR    WEST.  75 

for  nearly  thirty  years.  Herculaneum  has  long 
been  celebrated  for  those  in  her  vicinity.  The  sit- 
uation of  the  town  is  the  mouth  of  Joachim  Creek ; 
and  the  singular  gap  at  this  point  has  been  aptly 
compared  to  an  enormous  door,  thrown  open  in  the 
cliffs  for  the  passage  of  its  waters.  A  few  miles 
west  of  this  village  is  said  to  exist  a  great  natural 
curiosity,  in  shape  of  a  huge  rock  of  limestone, 
some  hundred  feet  in  length,  and  about  fifty  feet 
high.  This  rock  is  completely  honeycombed  with 
perforations,  and  has  the  appearance  of  having 
been  pierced  by  the  my  til  us  or  some  other  marine 
insect. 

A  few  miles  above  Herculaneum  comes  in  the 
Platine  Creek ;  and  here  commence  the  "  Cornice 
Rocks,"  a  magnificent  escarpment  of  castellated 
cliffs  some  two  or  three  hundred  feet  in  perpendic- 
ular altitude  from  the  bed  of  the  stream,  and  ex- 
tending along  the  western  bank  a  distance  of  eight 
or  ten  miles.  Through  the  facade  of  these  bluffs 
pours  in  the  tribute  of  the  Merrimac,  a  bright, 
sparkling,  beautiful  stream.  This  river  is  so  clear 
and  limpid  that  it  was  long  supposed  to  glide  over 
sands  of  silver;  but  the  idea  has  been  abandoned, 
and  given  place  to  the  certainty  of  an  abundant 
store  of  lead,  and  iron,  and  salt  upon  its  banks, 
while  its  source  is  shaded  by  extensive  forests  of 
the  white  pine,  a  material  in  this  section  of  coun- 
try almost,  if  not  quite,  as  valuable.  Ancient 
works  of  various  forms  are  also  found  upon  the 
banks  of  the  Merrimac.  There  is  an  immense 
cemetery  near  the  village  of  Fenton,  containing 


76  THE    FAR   WEST. 

thousands  of  graves  of  a  pigmy  size,  the  largest 
not  exceeding  four  feet  in  length.  This  cemetery 
is  now  enclosed  and  cultivated,  so  that  the  graves 
are  no  longer  visible ;  but,  previous  to  this,  it  is 
said  that  headstones  were  to  be  seen  bearing 
unintelligible  hieroglyphical  inscriptions.  Human 
remains,  ancient  pottery,  arrow-heads,  and  stone 
axes  are  daily  thrown  up  by  the  ploughshare,  while 
the  numerous  mounds  in  the  vicinity  are  literally 
composed  of  the  same  materials.  Mammoth  bones* 
such  as  those  discovered  on  the  Ohio  and  in  the 
state  of  New- York,  are  said  also  to  have  been  found 
at  a  salt-lick  near  this  stream. 

It  was  a  bright  morning,  on  the  fifth  day  of  an 
exceedingly  long  passage,  that  we  found  ourselves 
approaching  St.  Louis.  At  about  noon  we  were 
gliding  beneath  the  broad  ensign  floating  from  the 
flagstaff  of  Jefferson  Barracks.  The  sun  was  glo- 
riously bright ;  the  soft  summer  wind  was  rippling 
the  waters,  and  the  clear  cerulean  of  the  heavens 
was  imaged  in  their  depths.  The  site  of  the  quad- 
rangle of  the  barracks  enclosing  the  parade  is  the 
broad  summit  of  a  noble  bluff,  swelling  up  from  the 
water,  while  the  outbuildings  are  scattered  pictu- 
resquely along  the  interval  beneath  ;  the  view  from 
the  steamer  cannot  but  strike  the  traveller  as  one 
of  much  scenic  beauty.  Passing  the  venerable  vil- 
lage of  Carondelet,  with  its  whitewashed  cottages 
crumbling  with  years,  and  old  Cahokia  buried  in 
the  forests  on  the  opposite  bank,  the  gray  walls  of 
the  Arsenal  next  stood  out  before  us  in  the  rear  of 
its  beautiful  esplanade.  A  fine  quay  is  erected 
upon  the  river  in  front,  and  the  Extensive  grounds 


THE    FAR    WEST.  77 

are  enclosed  by  a  wall  of  stone.  Sweeping  on- 
ward, the  lofty  spire  and  dusky  walls  of  St.  Lou- 
is Cathedral,  on  rounding  a  river  bend,  opened 
upon  the  eye,  the  gilded  crucifix  gleaming  in  the 
sunlight  from  its  lofty  summit ;  and  then  the  glit- 
tering cupolas  and  church  domes,  and  the  fresh  as- 
pect of  private  residences,  mingling  with  the  bright 
foliage  of  forest-trees  interspersed,  all  swelling  gen- 
tly from  the  water's  edge,  recalled  vividly  the  beau- 
tiful "  Mistress  of  the  North,"  as  my  eye  has  often 
lingered  upon  her  from  her  magnificent  bay.  A 
few  more  spires,  and  the  illusion  would  be  perfect. 
For  beauty  of  outline  in  distant  view,  St.  Louis  is 
deservedly  famed.  The  extended  range  of  lime- 
stone warehouses  circling  the  shore  give  to  the 
city  a  grandeur  of  aspect,  as  approached  from  the 
water,  not  often  beheld ;  while  the  dense-rolling 
forest-tops  stretching  away  in  the  rear,  the  sharp 
outline  of  the  towers  and  roofs  against  the  western 
sky,  and  the  funereal  grove  of  steamboat-pipes 
lining  the  quay,  altogether  make  up  a  combination 
of  features  novel  and  picturesque.  As  we  ap- 
proached the  landing  all  the  uproar  and  confusion 
of  a  steamboat  port  was  before  us,  and  our  own 
arrival  added  to  the  bustle. 

And  now,  perchance,  having  escaped  the  mani- 
fold perils  of  sawyer  and  snag,  planter,  wreck-heap, 
and  sand-bar,  it  may  not  be  unbecoming  in  me,  like 
an  hundred  other  tourists,  to  gather  up  a  votive  of- 
fering, and — if  classic  allusion  be  permissible  on  the 
waters  of  the  wilderness  West — hang  it  up  before 
the  shrine  of  the  "  Father  of  Floods." 
>  G2 


78  THE    FAR  WEST. 

It  is  surely  no  misnomer  that  this  giant  stream 
has  been  styled  the  "  eternal  river,"  the  "  terrible 
Mississippi  ;"*  for  we  may  find  none  other  imbody- 
ing  so  many  elements  of  the  fearful  and  the  sublime. 
In  the  wild  rice-lakes  of  the  far  frozen  north,  amid 
a  solitude  broken  only  by  the  shrill  clang  of  the 
myriad  water-fowls,  is  its  home.  Gushing  out  from 
its  fountains  clear  as  the  air-bell,  it  sparkles  over 
the  white  pebbly  sand-beds,  and,  breaking  over  the 
beautiful  falls  of  the  "  Laughing  Water,"!  it  takes 
up  its  majestic  march  to  the  distant  deep.  Rolling 
onward  through  the  shades  of  magnificent  forests, 
and  hoary,  castellated  cliffs,  and  beautiful  meadows, 
its  volume  is  swollen  as  it  advances,  until  it  re- 
ceives to  its  bosom  a  tributary,  a  rival,  a  conquer- 
or, which  has  roamed  three  thousand  miles  for  the 
meeting,  and  its  original  features  are  lost  for  ever. 
Its  beauty  is  merged  in  sublimity  !  Pouring  along 
in  its  deep  bed  the  heaped-up  waters  of  streams 
which  drain  the  broadest  valley  on  the  globe ; 
sweeping  onward  in  a  boiling  mass,  furious,  turbid, 
always  dangerous ;  tearing  away,  from  time  to  time, 
its  deep  banks,  with  their  giant  colonnades  of  living 
verdure,  and  then,  with  the  stern  despotism  of  a 
conqueror,  flinging  them  aside  again;  governed  by 
no  principle  but  its  own  lawless  will,  the  dark  ma- 
jesty of  its  features  summons  up  an  emotion  of  the 
sublime  which  defies  contrast  or  parallel.  And 
then,  when  we  think  of  its  far,  lonely  course,  jour- 
neying onward  in  proud,  dread,  solitary  grandeur, 

*  A  name  of  Algonquin  origin — Missi  signifying  great,  and  sept 
a  river, 
i  Indian  name  for  the  "  Falls  of  St.  AntKony.'* 


THE    FAR    WEST.  79 

through  forests  dusk  with  the  lapse  of  centuries, 
pouring  out  the  ice  and  snows  of  arctic  lands 
through  every  temperature  of  clime,  till  at  last  it 
heaves  free  its  mighty  bosom  beneath  the  Line,  we 
are  forced  to  yield  up  ourselves  in  uncontrolled  ad- 
miration of  its  gloomy  magnificence.  And  its  dark, 
mysterious  history,  too ;  those  fearful  scenes  of 
which  it  has  alone  been  the  witness  ;  the  venerable 
tombs  of  a  race  departed  which  shadow  its  waters ; 
the  savage  tribes  that  yet  roam  its  forests;  the 
germes  of  civilization  expanding  upon  its  borders  ; 
and  the  deep  solitudes,  untrodden  by  man,  through 
which  it  rolls,  all  conspire  to  throng  the  fancy. 
Ages  on  ages  and  cycles  upon  cycles  have  rolled 
away ;  wave  after  wave  has  swept  the  broad  fields 
of  the  Old  World ;  an  hundred  generations  have 
arisen  from  the  cradle  and  flourished  in  their  fresh- 
ness, and,  like  autumn  leaflets,  have  withered  in 
the  tomb  ;  and  the  Pharaohs  and  the  Ptolemies,  the 
Caesars  and  the  Caliphs,  have  thundered  over  the 
nations  and  passed  away  ;  and  here,  amid  these 
terrible  solitudes,  in  the  stern  majesty  of  loneliness, 
and  power,  and  pride,  have  rolled  onward  these 
deep  waters  to  their  destiny  ! 

"  Who  gave  you  your  invulnerable  life, 
Your  strength,  your  speed,  your  fury,  and  your  joy  1" 
God  !  let  the  torrents,  like  a  shout  of  nations, 
Answer !" 

There  is,  perhaps,  no  stream  which  presents  a 
greater  variety  of  feature  than  the  Mississippi,  or 
phenomena  of  deeper  interest,  whether  we  regard 
the  soil,  productions,  and  climate  of  its  valley,  its 
individual  character  and  that  of  its  tributaries,  or 


80  THE    FAR    WEST. 

the  outline  of  its  scenery  and  course.  The  conflu- 
ents of  this  vast  stream  are  numerous,  and  each 
one  brings  a  tribute  of  the  soil  through  which  it 
has  roamed.  The  Missouri  pours  out  its  waters 
heavily  charged  with  the  marl  of  the  Rocky  Mount- 
ains, the  saffron  sands  of  the  Yellow  Stone,  and  the 
chalk  of  the  White  River ;  the  Ohio  holds  in  its 
floods  the  vegetable  mould  of  the  Alleghanies,  and 
the  Arkansas  and  Red  Rivers  bring  in  the  deep- 
died  alluvion  of  their  banks.  Each  tributary 
mingles  the  spoils  of  its  native  hills  with  the  gen- 
eral flood.  And  yet,  after  the  contributions  of  so 
many  streams,  the  remarkable  fact  is  observed 
that  its  breadth  and  volume  seem  rather  diminished 
than  increased.  Above  the  embouchure  of  the 
Missouri,  fifteen  hundred  miles  from  the  Mexican 
gulf,  it  is  broader  than  at  New-Orleans,  with  scarce 
one  tenth  of  its  water ;  and  at  the  foot  of  St.  An- 
thony's Falls  its  breadth  is  but  one  third  less.  This 
forms  a  striking  characteristic  of  the  Western  riv- 
ers, and  owes,  perhaps,  its  origin  partially  to  the  tur- 
bid character  of  their  waters :  as  they  approach 
their  outlet  they  augment  in  volume,  and  depth,  and 
impetuosity  of  current,  but  contract  their  expanse. 
None,  however,  exhibit  these  features  so  strikingly 
as  the  grand  central  stream ;  and  while,  for  its 
body  of  water,  it  is  the  narrowest  stream  known, 
it  is  charged  with  heavier  solutions  and  has  broad- 
er alluvions  than  any  other.  The  depth  of  the 
stream  is  constantly  varying.  At  New-Orleans  it 
exceeds  one  hundred  feet.  Its  width  is  from  half 
of  one  mile  to  two  miles ;  the  breadth  of  its  valley 


THE    FAR  WEST.  81 

from  six  miles  to  sixty ;  the  rapidity  of  its  current 
from  two  miles  to  four  ;  its  mean  descent  six  inches 
in  a  mile,  and  its  annual  floods  vary  from  twelve 
feet  to  sixty,  commencing  in  March  and  ending  in 
May.  Thus  much  for  Statistics. 

Below  its  confluence  with  its  turbid  tributary,  the 
Mississippi,  as  has  been  observed,  is  no  longer  the 
clear,  pure,  limpid  stream,  gushing  forth  from  the 
wreathy  snows  of  the  Northwest;  but  it  whirls 
along  against  its  ragged  banks  a  resistless  volume 
of  heavy,  sweeping  floods,  and  its  aspect  of  placid 
magnificence  is  beheld  no  more.  The  turbid  tor- 
rent heaves  onward,  wavering  from  side  to  side 
like  a  living  creature,  as  if  to  overleap  its  bounds  ; 
rolling  along  in  a  deep-cut  race-path,  through  a 
vast  expanse  of  lowland  meadow,  from  whose  ex- 
haustless  mould  are  reared  aloft  those  enormous 
shafts  shrouded  in  the  fresh  emerald  of  their  tas- 
selled  parasites,  for  which  its  alluvial  bottoms  are  so 
famous.  And  yet  the  valley  of  the  "  endless  river" 
cannot  be  deemed  heavily  timbered  when  contrast- 
ed with  the  forested  hills  of  the  Ohio.  The  syca- 
more, the  elm,  the  linden,  the  cotton- wood,  the  cy- 
press, and  other  trees  of  deciduous  foliage,  may 
attain  a  greater  diameter,  but  the  huge  trunks  are 
more  sparse  and  more  isolated  in  recurrence. 

But  one  of  the  most  striking  phenomena  of  the 
Mississippi,  in  common  with  all  the  Western  rivers, 
and  one  which  distinguishes  them  from  those  which 
disembogue  their  waters  into  the  Atlantic,  is  the 
uniformity  of  its  meanderings.  The  river,  in  its 
onward  course,  makes  a  semicircular  sweep  al- 


82  THE    FAR   WEST. 

most  with  the  precision  of  a  compass,  and  then  is 
precipitated  diagonally  athwart  its  channel  to  a 
curve  of  equal  regularity  upon  the  opposite  shore. 
The  deepest  channel  and  most  rapid  current  is 
said  to  exist  in  the  bend ;  and  thus  the  stream  gen- 
erally infringes  upon  the  bend-side,  and  throws  up 
a  sandbar  on  the  shore  opposite.  So  constantly 
do  these  sinuosities  recur,  that  there  are  said  to  be 
but  three  reaches  of  any  extent  between  the  con- 
fluence of  the  Ohio  and  the  Gulf,  and  so  uniform 
that  the  boatmen  and  Indians  have  been  accustom- 
ed to  estimate  their  progress  by  the  number  of 
bends  rather  than  by  the  number  of  miles.  One 
of  the  sweeps  of  the  Missouri  is  said  to  include  a 
distance  of  forty  miles  in  its  curve,  and  a  circuit  of 
half  that  distance  is  not  uncommon.  Sometimes 
a  "  cut-off"  in  the  parlance  of  the  watermen,  is  pro- 
duced at  these  bends,  where  the  stream,  in  its  head- 
long course,  has  burst  through  the  narrow  neck  of 
the  peninsula,  around  which  it.  once  circled.  At  a 
point  called  the  "Grand  Cut-off,"  steamers  now 
pass  through  an  isthmus  of  less  than  one  mile, 
where  formerly  was  required  a  circuit  of  twenty. 
The  current,  in  its  more  furious  stages,  often  tears 
up  islands  from  the  bed  of  the  river,  removes 
sandbars  and  points,  and  sweeps  off  whole  acres 
of  alluvion  with  their  superincumbent  forests.  In 
the  season  of  flood  the  settlers,  in  their  log-cabins 
along  the  banks,  are  often  startled  from  their  sleep 
by  the  deep,  sullen  crash  of  a  "land-slip,"  as  such 
removals  are  called. 

The  scenery  of  the  Mississippi,  below  its  con- 

€ 


THE    FAR  WEST.  83 

fluence  with  the  Missouri,  is,  as  has  been  remarked, 
too  sublime  for  beauty ;  and  yet  there  is  not  a 
little  of  the  picturesque  in  the  views  which  meet 
the  eye  along  the  banks.  Towns  and  settlements 
of  greater  or  less  extent  appear  at  frequent  inter- 
vals ;  and  then  the  lowly  log-hut  of  the  pioneer 
is  not  to  be  passed  without  notice,  standing  be- 
neath the  tall,  branchless  columns  of  the  girdled 
forest-trees,  with  its  luxuriant  maize-fields  sweep- 
ing away  in  the  rear.  One  of  these  humble  habi- 
tations of  the  wilderness  we  reached,  I  remember, 
one  evening  near  twilight ;  and  while  our  boat  was 
delayed  at  the  woodyard,  I  strolled  up  from  the 
shore  to  the  gateway,  and  entered  easily  into  con- 
fabulation with  a  pretty,  slatternly-looking  female, 
with  a  brood  of  mushroom,  flaxen-haired  urchins 
at  her  apron-string,  and  an  infant  at  the  breast  very 
quietly  receiving  his  supper.  On  inquiry  I  learned 
that  eighteen  years  had  seen  the  good  woman  a 
denizen  of  the  wilderness  ;  that  all  the  responsibil- 
ities appertained  unto  herself,  and  that  her  "  man" 
was  proprietor  of  some  thousand  acres  of  bottom 
in  the  vicinity.  Subsequently  I  was  informed  that 
the  worthy  woodcutter  could  be  valued  at  not  less 
than  one  hundred  thousand  !  yet,  en  verite,  reader 
mine,  I  do  asseverate  that  my  latent  sympathies 
were  not  slightly  roused  at  the  first  introduction, 
because  of  the  seeming  poverty  of  the  dirty  cabin 
and  its  dirtier  mistress  ! 
St.  Louis. 


THE    FAR   WEST, 


VJII. 

"  Once  more  upon  the  waters,  yet  once  more  !" 

Childe  Harold. 

"  I  believe  this  is  the  finest  confluence  in  the  world." 

CHARLEVOIX. 

" 'Tis  twilight  now  ; 

The  sovereign  sun  behind  his  western  hills 
In  glory  hath  declined." 

BLACKWOOD'S  Magazine. 

A  BRIGHT,  sunny  summer  morning  as  ever  smiled 
from  the  blue  heavens,  and  again  I  found  myself 
upon  the  waters.  Fast  fading  in  the  distance  lay 
the  venerable  little  city  of  the  French,  with  its  an- 
cient edifices  and  its  narrow  streets,  while  in  anti- 
cipation was  a  journeying  of  some  hundred  miles  up 
the  Illinois.  Sweeping  along  past  the  city  and  the 
extended  line  of  steamers  at  the  landing,  my  atten- 
tion was  arrested  by  that  series  of  substantial 
stone  mills  situated  upon  the  shore  immediately 
above,  and  a  group  of  swarthy  little  Tritons  dis- 
porting themselves  in  the  turbid  waters  almost  be- 
neath our  paddle-wheels.  Among  other  singular 
objects  were  divers  of  those  nondescript  inventions 
of  Captain  Shreve,  yclept  by  the  boatmen  "  Uncle 
Sam's  Tooth-pullers ;"  and,  judging  from  their  fero- 
cious physiognomy,  and  the  miracles  they  have 
effected  in  the  navigation  of  the  great  waters  of  the 
West,  well  do  they  correspond  to  the  soubriquet. 


THE    FAR    WEST.  85 

The  craft  consists  of  two  perfect  hulls,  constructed 
\vith  a  view  to  great  strength  ;  united  by  heavy 
beams,  and,  in  those  parts  most  exposed,  protected 
by  an  armature  of  iron.  The  apparatus  for  eradi- 
cating the  snags  is  comprised  in  a  simple  wheel 
and  axle,  auxiliary  to  a  pair  of  powerful  steam-en- 
gines, with  the  requisite  machinery  for  locomotion, 
and  a  massive  beam  uniting  the  bows  of  the  hulls, 
sheathed  with  iron.  The  modus  operandi  in  tear- 
ing up  a  snag,  or  sawyer,  or  any  like  obstruction 
from  the  bed  of  the  stream,  appears  to  be  this : 
Commencing  at  some  distance  below,  in  order  to 
gain  an  impetus  as  powerful  as  possible,  the  boat 
is  forced,  under  a  full  pressure  of  steam,  against  the 
snag,  the  head  of  which,  rearing  itself  above  the 
water,  meets  the  strong  transverse  beam  of  which 
I  have  spoken,  and  is  immediately  elevated  a  num- 
ber of  feet  above  the  surface.  A  portion  of  the 
log  is  then  severed,  and  the  roots  are  torn  out  by 
the  windlass,  or  application  of  the  main  strength 
of  the  engines ;  or,  if  practicable,  the  first  operation 
is  repeated  until  the  obstacle  is  completely  eradi- 
cated. The  efficiency  of  this  instrument  has  been 
tested  by  the  removal  of  some  thousand  obstruc- 
tions, at  an  average  expense  of  about  twelve  or 
fifteen  dollars  each. 

Along  the  river- banks  in  the  northern  suburbs  of 
the  city  lie  the  scattered  ruins  of  an  ancient  fortifi- 
cation of  the  Spanish  government,  when  it  held  dom- 
ination over  the  territory  ;  and  one  circular  struc- 
ture of  stone,  called  "  Roy's  Tower,"  now  occupied 
as  a  dwelling,  yet  remains  entire.  There  is  also  an 

VOL.  I.— H    > 


86  THE    FAR   WEST. 

old  castle  of  stone  in  tolerable  preservation,  sur- 
rounded by  a  wall  of  the  same  material.  Some  of 
these  venerable  relics  of  former  time — alas!  for 
the  irreverence  of  the  age — have  been  converted 
into  limekilns,  and  into  lime  itself,  for  aught  that  is 
known  to  the  contrary !  The  waterworks,  General 
Ashley's  beautiful  residence,  and  that  series  of  an- 
cient mounds  for  which  St.  Louis  is  famous,  were 
next  passed  in  succession,  while  upon  the  right 
stretched  out  the  long  low  outline  of  "Blood  Island" 
in  the  middle  of  the  stream.  For  several  miles 
above  the  city,  as  we  proceeded  up  the  river,  pleas- 
ant villas,  with  their  white  walls  and  cultivated 
grounds,  were  caught  from  time  to  time  by  the  eye, 
glancing  through  the  green  foliage  far  in  the  interi- 
or. It  was  a  glorious  day.  Silvery  cloudlets  were 
floating  along  the  upper  sky  like  spiritual  creations, 
and  a  fresh  breeze  was  rippling  the  waters :  along 
the  banks  stood  out  the  huge  spectral  Titans  of  the 
forest,  heaving  aloft  their  naked  limbs  like  monu- 
ments of  "  time  departed,"  while  beneath  reposed 
the  humble  hut  and  clearing  of  the  settler. 

It  was  nearly  midday,  after  leaving  St.  Louis, 
that  we  reached  the  embouchure  of  the  Missouri. 
Twenty  miles  before  attaining  that  point,  the  con- 
fluent streams  flow  along  in  two  distinct  currents 
upon  either  shore,  the  one  white,  clayey,  and  troub- 
led, the  other  a  deep  blue.  The  river  sweeps 
along,  indeed,  in  two  distinct  streams  past  the  city 
of  St.  Louis,  upon  either  side  of  Blood  Island,  nor 
does  it  unite  its  heterogeneous  floods  for  many  miles 
below.  At  intervals,  as  the  huge  mass  rolls  itself 


THE    FAR    WEST.  87 

along,  vast  whirls  and  swells  of  turbid  water  burst 
out  upon  the  surface,  producing  an  aspect  not  un- 
like the  sea  in  a  gusty  day,  mottled  by  the  shadows 
of  scudding  clouds.  Charlevoix,  the  chronicler  of 
the  early  French  explorations  in  North  America, 
with  reference  to  this  giant  confluence,  more  than 
a  century  since  thus  writes  :  "  I  believe  this  is  the 
finest  confluence  in  the  world.  The  two  rivers 
are  much  of  the  same  breadth,  each  about  half  a 
league,  but  the  Missouri  is  by  far  the  most  rapid, 
and  seems  to  enter  the  Mississippi  like  a  conqueror, 
through  which  it  carries  its  white  waves  to  the  op- 
posite shore  without  mixing  them.  Afterward  it 
gives  its  colour  to  the  Mississippi,  which  it  never 
loses  again,  but  carries  quite  down  to  the  sea."  This 
account,  with  all  due  consideration  for  the  venera- 
ble historian,  accords  not  precisely  with  the  scene 
of  the  confluence  at  the  present  day,  at  least  not 
as  it  has  appeared  to  myself.  The  Missouri,  in- 
deed, rolls  in  its  heavy  volume  with  the  impetuos- 
ity and  bearing  of  a  "  conqueror"  upon  the  tranquil 
surface  of  its  rival ;  but  entering,  as  it  does,  at  right 
angles,  its  waters  are  met  in  their  headlong  course, 
and  almost  rolled  back  upon  themselves  for  an  in- 
stant by  the  mighty  momentum  of  the  flood  they 
strike.  This  is  manifested  by,  and  accounts  for, 
that  well-defined  line  of  light  mud-colour  extending 
from  bank  to  bank  across  its  mouth,  bounded  by 
the  dark  blue  of  the  Upper  Mississippi,  and  flow- 
ing sluggishly  along  in  a  lengthened  and  dingy 
stain,  like  a  fringe  upon  the  western  shore.  The 
breadth  of  the  embouchure  is  about  one  mile,  and  its 


88  THE    FAR    WEST. 

channel  lies  nearly  in  the  centre,  bounded  by  vast 
sand-bars — sediment  of  the  waters — upon  either 
side.  The  alluvial  deposites,  with  which  it  is  heavi- 
ly charged,  accumulate  also  in  several  islands  near 
the  confluence,  while  the  rivers  united  spread  them- 
selves out  into  an  immense  lake.  As  the  steamer 
glides  along  among  these  islands  opposite  the  Mis- 
souri, the  scene  with  its  associations  is  grand  be- 
yond description.  Far  up  the  extended  vista  of 
the  stream,  upon  a  lofty  bluff,  stands  out  a  struc- 
ture which  marks  the  site  of  the  ancient  military 
post  of  "  Belle  Fontaine ;"  while  on  the  opposite 
bank,  stretching  inland  from  the  point  heavily  wood- 
ed, lies  the  broad  and  beautiful  prairie  of  the  "  Ma- 
melles."  Directly  fronting  the  confluence  stand  a 
range  of  heights  upon  the  Illinois  shore,  from  the 
summit  of  which  is  spread  out,  like  a  painting,  one 
of  the  most  extraordinary  views  in  the  world. 

The  Mississippi,  above  its  junction  with  its  tur- 
bid tributary,  is,  as  has  been  remarked,  a  clear, 
sparkling,  beautiful  stream  ;  now  flashing  in  sil- 
very brilliance  over  its  white  sand-bars,  then  re- 
treating far  into  the  deep  indentations  of  its  shady 
banks,  and  again  spreading  out  its  waters  into  a 
tranquil,  lakelike  basin  miles  in  extent,  studded  with 
islets. 

The  far-famed  village  of  Alton,  situated  upon  the 
Illinois  shore  a  few  miles  above  the  confluence,  soon 
rose  before  us  in  the  distance.  When  its  multiform 
declivities  shall  have  been  smoothed  away  by  the 
hand  of  enterprise  and  covered  with  handsome  ed- 
ifices, it  will  doubtless  present  a  fine  appearance 


THE    FAR  WEST.  89 

from  the  water ;  as  it  now  remains,  its  aspect  is 
rugged  enough.  The  Penitentiary,  a  huge  structure 
of  stone,  is  rather  too  prominent  a  feature  in  the 
scene.  Indeed,  it  is  the  first  object  which  strikes 
the  attention,  and  reminds  one  of  a  gray  old  baronial 
castle  of  feudal  days  more  than  of  anything  else. 
The  churches,  of  which  there  are  several,  and  the 
extensive  warehouses  along  the  shore,  have  an 
imposing  aspect,  and  offer  more  agreeable  asso- 
ciations. As  we  drew  nigh  to  Alton,  the  .fireman 
of  our  steamer  deemed  proper,  in  testimonial  of  the 
dignity  of  our  arrival,  to  let  off  a  certain  rusty  old 
swivel  which  chanced  to  be  on  board  5  and  to  have 
witnessed  the  marvellous  fashion  in  which  this  im- 
portant manoeuvre  was  executed  by  our  worthies, 
would  have  pardoned  a  smile  on  the  visage  of  He- 
raclitus  himself.  One  lanky-limbed  genius  held  a 
huge  dipper  of  gunpowder;  another,  seizing  upon 
the  extremity  of  a  hawser,  and  severing  a  generous 
fragment,  made  use  thereof  for  wadding ;  a  third 
rammed  home  the  charge  with  that  fearful  weapon 
wherewith  he  poked  the  furnaces ;  while  a  fourth, 
honest  wight — all  preparation  being  complete — ad- 
vanced with  a  shovel  of  glowing  coals,  which, 
poured  upon  the  touchhole,  the  old  piece  was  briefly 
delivered  of  its  charge,  and  the  woods,  and  shores, 
and  welkin  rang  again  to  the  roar.  If  we  made  not 
our  entrance  into  Alton  with  "  pomp  and  circum- 
stance," it  was  surely  the  fault  of  any  one  but  our 
worthy  fireman. 

The  site  of  Alton,  at  the  confluence  of  three  large 
and  navigable  streams ;  its  extensive  back  country 


90  THE   FAR  WEST. 

of  great  fertility ;  the  vast  bodies  of  heavy  timber  on 
every  side ;  its  noble  quarries  of  stone ;  its  inexhaust- 
ible beds  of  bituminous  coal  only  one  mile  distant, 
and  its  commodious  landing,  all  seem  to  indicate  the- 
design  of  Nature  that  here  should  arise  a  populous- 
and  wealthy  town.  The  place  has  been  laid  off  by 
its  proprietors  in  liberal  style  ;  five  squares  have 
been  reserved  for  public  purposes,  with  a  prome- 
nade and  landing,  and  the  corporate  bounds  extend 
two  miles  along  the  river,  and  half  a  mile  into  the 
interior.  Yet  Alton,  with  all  its  local  and  artificial 
advantages,  is  obnoxious  to  objections.  Its  situation, 
in  one  section  abrupt  and  precipitous,  while  in  an- 
other depressed  and  confined,  and  the  extensive  al- 
luvion lying  between  the  two  great  rivers  opposite, 
it  is  believed,  will  always  render  it  more  or  less  un- 
healthy ;  and  its  unenviable  proximity  to  St.  Louis 
will  never  cease  to  retard  its  commercial  advance- 
ment. 

The  city  of  Alton,  as  it  is  now  styled  by  its  char- 
ter, was  founded  in  the  year  1818  by  a  gentleman- 
who  gave  the  place  his  name ;  but,  until  within  the 
six  years  past,  it  could  boast  but  few  houses  and  lit- 
tle business.  Its  population  now  amounts  to  several 
thousands,  and  its  edifices  for  business,  private  res- 
idence, or  public  convenience  are  large  and  elegant 
structures.  Its  stone  churches  present  an  imposing 
aspect  to  the  visiter.  The  streets  are  from  forty  to- 
eighty  feet  in  width,  and  extensive  operations  are  in 
progress  to  render  the  place  as  uniform  as  its  site  will 
admit.  A  contract  has  been  recently  entered  upon 
to  construct  a  culvert  over  the  Little  Piasa  Creek, 


THE   FAR    WEST.  91 

which  passes  through  the  centre  of  the  town,  upon 
which  are  to  be  extended  streets.  The  expense  is 
estimated  at  sixty  thousand  dollars.  The  creek  is- 
sues from  a  celebrated  fountain  among  the  bluffs 
called  "  Cave  Spring."  Alton  is  not  a  little  cele- 
brated for  its  liberal  contribution  to  the  moral  im- 
provements of  the  day.  To  mention  but  a  solitary 
instance,  a  gentleman  of  the  place  recently  made 
a  donation  of  ten  thousand  dollars  for  the  endow- 
ment of  a  female  seminary  at  Monticello,  a  vil- 
lage five  miles  to  the  north ;  and  measures  are  in 
progress  to  carry  the  design  into  immediate  execu- 
tion. Two  railroads  are  shortly  to  be  constructed 
from.  Alton ;  one  to  Springfield,  seventy  miles  dis- 
tant, and  the  other  to  Mount  Carmel  on  the  Wa- 
bash.  The  stock  of  each  has  been  mostly  sub- 
scribed, and  they  cannot  fail,  when  completed,  to 
add  much  to  the  importance  of  the  places.  Alton 
is  also  a  proposed  terminus  of  two  of  the  state  rail- 
roads, and  of  the  Cumberland  Road. 

At  Alton  terminates  the  "  American  Bottom," 
and  here  commences. that  singular  series  of  green, 
grassy  mounds,  rounding  off  the  steep  summits  of 
the  cliffs  as  they  rise  from  the  water,  which  every 
traveller  cannot  but  have  noticed  and  admired.  It 
was  a  calm,  beautiful  evening  when  we  left  the  vil- 
lage ;  and,  gliding  beneath  the  magnificent  bluffs, 
held  our  way  up  the  stream,  breaking  in  upon  its 
tranquil  surface,  and  rolling  its  waters  upon  either 
side  in  tumultuous  waves  to  the  shore.  The  rich 
purple  of  departing  day  was  dying  the  western  heav- 
ens ;  the  light  gauzy  haze  of  twilight  was  unfolding 
itself  like  a  veil  o\^r  the  forest-tops ;  "  Maro's  shep- 


92  THE    FAR  WEST. 

herd  star"  was  stealing  timidly  forth  upon  the  brow 
of  night ;  the  flashing  fireflies  along  the  underbrush 
were  beginning  their  splendid  illuminations,  and 
the  mild  melody  of  a  flute  and  a  few  fine  voices 
floating  over  the  shadowy  waters,  lent  the  last 
touching  to  a  scene  of  beauty.  A  little  French  vil- 
lage, with  its  broad  galleries,  and  steep  roofs,  and 
venerable  church,  in  a  few  miles  appeared  among 
the  underbrush  on  the  left.  Upon  the  opposite 
shore  the  bluffs  began  to  assume  a  singular  aspect, 
as  if  the  solid  mass  of  limestone  high  up  had  been 
subjected  to  the  excavation  of  rushing  waters.  The 
cliffs  elevated  themselves  from  the  river's  edge  like 
a  regular  succession  of  enormous  pillars,  rendered 
more  striking  by  their  ashy  hue.  This  giant  col- 
onnade— in  some  places  exceeding  an  altitude  of  an 
hundred  feet,  and  exhibiting  in  its  fa9ade  the  open- 
ings of  several  caves — extended  along  the  stream 
until  we  reached  Grafton,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Il- 
linois ;  the  calm,  beautiful,  ever-placid  Illinois ; 
beautiful  now  as  on  the  day  the  enthusiast  voyageur 
first  deemed  it  the  pathway  .to  a  "paradise  upon 
earth."  The  moon  was  up,  and  her  beams  were 
resting  mellowly  upon  the  landscape.  Far  away, 
even  to  the  blue  horizon,  the  mirror-surface  of  the 
stream  unfolded  its  vistas  to  the  eye ;  upon  its  bo- 
som slumbered  the  bright  islets,  like  spirits  of  the 
waters,  from  whose  clear  depths  stood  out  the  re- 
flection of  their  forests,  while  to  the  left  opened  upon 
the  view  a  glimpse  of  the  "  Mamelle  Prairie,"  roll- 
ing its  bright  waves  of  verdure  beneath  the  moon- 
light like  a  field  of  fairy  land.  For  an  hour  we 
gazed  upon  this  magnificent  sce^ie,  and  the  bright 


THE    FAR   WEST.  93 

waves  dashed  in  sparkles  from  our  bow,  retreating 
in  lengthened  wake  behind  us,  until  our  steamer 
turned  from  the  Mississippi,  and  we  were  gliding 
along  beneath  the  deep  shadows  of  the  forested  Il- 
linois. 
Illinois  River. 


IX. 

"  A  tale  of  the  times  of  old !     The  deeds  of  dajss  of  other 
years !"  OSSIAN. 

"  Thou  beautiful  river  !     Thy  bosom  is  calm, 
And  o'er  thee  soft  breezes  are  shedding  their  balm  ; 
And  Nature  beholds  her  fair  features  portray'd, 
In  the  glass  of  thy  bosom  serenely  display'd." 

BENGAL  ANNUAL. 

"  Tarn  saw  an  unco  sight." 

BURNS. 

IT  is  an  idea  which  has  more  than  once  occurred 
to  me,  while  throwing  together  these  hasty  delinea-  . 
tions  of  the  beautiful  scenes  through  which,  for  the 
past  few  weeks,  I  have  been  moving,  that,  by  some, 
a  disposition  might  be  suspected  to  tinge  every  out- 
line indiscriminately  with  the  " coleur  de  rose" 
But  as  well  might  one  talk  of  an  exaggerated  emo- 
tion of  the  sublime  on  the  table-rock  of  Niagara, 
or  amid  the  "  snowy  scalps"  of  Alpine  scenery,  or 
of  a  mawkish  sensibility  to  loveliness  amid  the  pur- 
ple glories  of  the  "-Campagna  di  Roma"  as  of  ei- 
ther, or  of  both  combined,  in  the  noble  "  valley  be- 
yond the  mountains.^  N>or  is  the  interest  experi- 


94  THE   FAR   WEST. 

enced  by  the  traveller  for  many  of  the  spots  he 
passes  confined  to  their  scenic  beauty.  The  associ- 
ations of  by-gone  times  are  rife  in  the  mind,  and  the 
traditionary  legend  of  the  events  these  scenes  have 
witnessed  yet  lingers  among  the  simple  forest-sons. 
I  have  mentioned  that  remarkable  range  of  cliffs 
commencing  at  Alton,  and  extending,  with  but  little 
interruption,  along  the  left  shore  of  the  Mississippi  to 
the  mouth  of  the  Illinois.  Through  a  deep,  narrow 
ravine  in  these  bluffs  flows  a  small  stream  called 
the  Piasa.  The  name  is  of  aboriginal  derivation, 
and,  in  the  idiom  of  the  Illini,  denotes  "  The  bird 
that  devours  men"  Near  the  mouth  of  this  little 
stream  rises  a  bold,  precipitous  bluff,  and  upon  its 
smooth  face,  at  an  elevation  seemingly  unattainable 
by  human  art,  is  graven  the  figure  of  an  enormous 
bird  with  extended  pinions.  This  bird  was  by  the 
Indians  called  the  "  Piasa  /"  hence  the  name  of  the 
stream.  The  tradition  of  the  Piasa  is  said  to  be 
still  extant  among  the  tribes  of  the  Upper  Missis- 
sippi, and  is  thus  related  : 

"  Many  thousand  moons  before  the  arrival  of  the 
pale  faces,  when  the  great  megalonyx  and  mastodon, 
whose  bones  are  now  thrown  up,  were  still  living  in 
the  land  of  the  green  prairies,  there  existed  a  bird 
of  such  dimensions  that  he  could  easily  carry  off  in 
his  talons  a  full-grown  deer.  Having  obtained  a 
taste  of  human  flesh,  from  that  time  he  would  prey 
upon  nothing  else.  He  was  as  artful  as  he  was  pow- 
erful ;  would  dart  suddenly  and  unexpectedly  upon  an 
Indian,  bear  him  off  to  one  of  the  caves  in  the  bluff, 
and  devour  him.  Hundreds  of  warriors  attempt- 
ed for  years  to  destroy  him,  £ut  without  success. 


THE    FAR   WEST.  95 

Whole  villages  were  depopulated,  and  consterna- 
tion spread  throughout  all  the  tribes  of  the  Illini. 
At  length  Owatoga,  a  chief  whose  fame  as  a  war- 
rior extended  even  beyond  the  great  lakes,  separating 
himself  from  the  rest  of  his  tribe,  fasted  in  solitude 
for  the  space  of  a  whole  moon,  and  prayed  to  the 
Great  Spirit,  the  Master  of  Life,  that  he  would 
protect  his  children  from  the  Piasa.  On  the  last 
night  of  his  fast  the  Great  Spirit  appeared  to  him 
in  a  dream,  and  directed  him  to  select  twenty  of 
his  warriors,  each  armed  with  a  bow  and  pointed 
arrows,  and  conceal  them  in  a  designated  spot. 
Near  the  place  of  their  concealment  another  warrior 
was  to  stand  in  open  view  as  a  victim  for  the  Piasa, 
which  they  must  shoot  the  instant  he  pounced  upon 
his  prey.  When  the  chief  awoke  in  the  morning 
he  thanked  the  Great  Spirit,  returned  to  his  tribe, 
and  told  them  his  dream.  The  warriors  were 
quickly  selected  and  placed  in  ambush.  Owatoga 
offered  himself  as  the  victim,  willing  to  die  for  his 
tribe  ;  and,  placing  himself  in  open  view  of  the  bluff, 
he  soon  saw  the  Piasa  perched  on  the  cliff,  eying 
his  prey.  Owatoga  drew  up  his  manly  form  to  its 
utmost  height ;  and,  placing  his  feet  firmly  upon  the 
earth,  began  to  chant  the  death-song  of  a  warrior : 
a  moment  after,  the  Piasa  rose  in  the  air,  and, 
swift  as  the  thunderbolt,  darted  down  upon  the 
chief.  Scarcely  had  he  reached  his  victim  when 
every  bow  was  sprung  and  every  arrow  was  sped  to 
the  feather  into  his  body.  The  Piasa  uttered  a  wild, 
fearful  scream,  that  resounded  far  over  the  opposite 
side  of  the  river,  and  expired.  Owatoga  was  safe. 


96  THE   FAR   WEST. 

Not  an  arrow,  not  even  the  talons  of  the  bird  had 
touched  him  ;  for  the  Master  of  Life,  in  admiration 
of  his  noble  deed,  had  held  over  him  an  invisible 
shield.  In  memory  of  this  event,  this  image  of  the 
Piasa  was  engraved  in  the  face  of  the  bluff." 

Such  is  the  Indian  tradition.  True  or  false,  the 
figure  of  the  bird,  with  expanded  wings,  graven  upon 
the  surface  of  solid  rock,  is  still  to  be  seen  at  a 
height  perfectly  inaccessible ;  and  to  this  day  no 
Indian  glides  beneath  the  spot  in  his  canoe  without 
discharging  at  this  figure  his  gun.  Connected  with 
this  tradition,  as  the  spot  to  which  the  Piasa  con- 
veyed his  human  victims,  is  one  of  those  caves  to 
which  I  have  alluded.  Another,  near  the  mouth  of 
the  Illinois,  situated  about  fifty  feet  from  the  water, 
and  exceedingly  difficult  of  access,  is  said  to  be 
crowded  with  human  remains  to  the  depth  of  many 
feet  in  the  earth  of  the  floor.  The  roof  of  the  cav- 
ern is  vaulted.  It  is  about  twenty-five  feet  in  height, 
thirty  in  length,  and  in  form  is  very  irregular.  There 
are  several  other  cavernous  fissures  among  these 
cliffs  not  unworthy  description. 

The  morning's  dawn  found  our  steamer  gliding 
quietly  along  upon  the  bright  waters  of  the  Illinois. 
The  surface  of  the  stream  was  tranquil;  not  a  rip- 
ple disturbed  its  slumbers  ;  it  was  currentless ;  the 
mighty  mass  of  the  Mississippi  was  swollen,  and, 
acting  as  a  dam  across  the  mouth  of  its  tributary, 
caused  a  back-water  of  an  hundred  miles.  The 
waters  of  the  Illinois  were  consequently  stagnant, 
tepid,  and  by  no  means  agreeable  to  the  taste. 
There  was  present,  also,  a  peculiarly  bitter  twang, 


THE   FAR  WEST,  97 

thought  to  be  imparted  by  the  roots  of  the  trees  and 
plants  along  its  banks,  which,  when  motionless, 
its  waters  steep ;  under  these  circumstances,  water 
is  always  provided  from  the  Mississippi  before  en- 
tering the  mouth  of  the  Illinois*  But,  whatever  its 
qualities,  this  stream,  to  the  eye,  is  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  that  meanders  the  earth.  As  we  glided 
onward  upon  its  calm  bosom,  a  graceful  little  fawn, 
standing  upon  the  margin  in  the  morning  sunlight, 
was  bending  her  large,  lustrous  eyes  upon  the  deli- 
cate reflection  of  her  form,  mirrored  in  the  stream  ; 
and,  like  the  fabled  Narcissus,  so  enamoured  did  she 
appear  with  the  charm  of  her  own  loveliness,  that 
our  noisy  approach  seemed  scarce  to  startle  her ;  or 
perchance  she  was  the  pet  of  some  neighbouring 
log-cabin.  The  Illinois  is  by  many  considered  the 
"  belle  riviere'''  of  the  Western  waters,  and,  in  a 
commercial  and  agricultural  view,  is  destined,  doubt- 
less, to  occupy  an  important  rank.  Tonti,  the  old 
French  chronicler,  speaks  thus  of  it :  "  The  banks  of 
that  river  are  as  charming  to  the  eye  as  useful  to  life ; 
the  meadows,  fruit-trees,  and  forests  affording  every- 
thing that  is  necessary  for  men  and  beasts."  It 
traverses  the  entire  length  of  one  of  the  most  fertile 
regions  in  the  Union,  and  irrigates,  by  its  tributary 
streams,  half  the  breadth.  Its  channel  is  sufficiently 
deep  for  steamers  of  the  larger  class ;  its  current  is 
uniform,  and  the  obstacles  to  its  navigation  are  few, 
and  may  be  easily  removed.  The  chief  of  these  is 
a  narrow  bar  just  below  the  town  of  Beardstown, 
stretching  like  a  wing-dam  quite  across  to  the  west- 
ern bank ;  and  any  boat  which  may  pass  this  bar 
VOL.  I.— I  s  > 


98  THE    FAR   WEST. 

can  at  all  times  reach  the  port  of  the  Rapids*  Its 
length  is  about  three  hundred  miles,  and  its  narrow- 
est part,  opposite  Peru,  is  about  eighty  yards  in 
width.  By  means  of  a  canal,  uniting  its  waters  with 
those  of  Lake  Michigan,  the  internal  navigation  of 
the  whole  country  from  New- York  to  New-Orleans 
is  designed  to  be  completed. 

The  banks  of  the  Illinois  are  depressed  and  mo- 
notonous, liable  at  all  seasons  to  inundation,  and 
stretch  away  for  miles  to  the  bluffs  in  broad  prai- 
ries, glimpses  of  whose  lively  emerald  and  silvery 
lakes,  caught  at  intervals  through  the  dark  fringe  of 
cypress  skirting  the  stream,  are  very  refreshing. 
The  bottom  lands  upon  either  side,  from  one  mile  to 
five,  are  seldom  elevated  much  above  the  ordinary 
surface  of  the  stream,  and  are  at  every  higher  stage 
of  water  submerged  to  the  depth  of  many  feet,  pre- 
senting the  appearance  of  a  stream  rolling  its  tide 
through  an  ancient  arid  gloomy  forest,  luxuriant  in 
foliage  and  vast  in  extent.  It  is  not  surprising  that  all 
these  regions  should  be  subject  to  the  visitations  of 
disease,  when  we  look  upon  the  miserable  cabin  of 
the  woodcutter,  reared  upon  the  very  verge  of  the 
water,  surrounded  on  every  side  by  swamps,  and  en- 
veloped in  their  damp  dews  and  the  poisonous  exha- 
lations rising  from  the  seething  decomposition  of  the 
monstrous  vegetation  around.  The  traveller  won- 
ders not  at  the  sallow  complexion,  the  withered  fea- 
tures, and  the  fleshless,  ague-racked  limbs,  which,  as 
he  passes,  peep  forth  upon  him  from  the  luxuriant  fo- 
liage of  this  region  of  sepulchres ;  his  only  astonish- 
ment is,  that  in  such  an  atmosphere  the  human  con- 


THE    PAR  WEST.  99 

stitution  can  maintain  vitality  at  all.  And  yet,  never 
did  the  poet's  dream  image  scenery  more  enchant- 
ing than  is  sometimes  unfolded  upon  this  beautiful 
stream.  I  loved,  on  a  bright  sunny  morning,  to 
linger  hours  away  upon  the  lofty  deck,  as  our 
steamer  thridded  the  green  islets  of  the  winding 
waters,  and  gaze  upon  the  reflection  of  the  blue  sky 
flecked  with  cloudlets  in  the  bluer  wave  beneath, 
and  watch  the  startling  splash  of  the  glittering  fish, 
as,  in  exhilarated  joyousness,  he  flung  himself  from 
its  tranquil  bosom,  and  then  fell  back  again  into  its 
cool  depths.  Along  the  shore  strode  the  blue- 
backed  wader ;  the  wild  buck  bounded  to  his  thick- 
et ;  the  graceful  buzzard — vulture  of  the  West — 
soared  majestically  over  the  tree-tops,  while  the  fit- 
ful chant  of  the  fireman  at  his  toil  echoed  and  re- 
echoed through  the  recesses  of  the  forests. 

Upon  the  left,  in  ascending  the  Illinois,  lie  the 
lands  called  the  "  Military  Bounty  Tract"  reserved 
by  Congress  for  distribution  among  the  soldiers  of 
the  late  war  with  Great  Britain.  It  is  comprehend- 
ed within  the  peninsula  of  the  Illinois  and  Missis- 
sippi Rivers,  about  an  hundred  and  seventy  miles 
in  length  and  sixty  broad,  embracing  twelve  of  the 
northwest  counties  of  the  state.  This  tract  of  coun- 
try is  said  to  be  exceedingly  fertile,  abounding  in 
beautiful  prairies  and  lakes ;  but  the  delta  or  alluvial 
regions  cannot  but  prove  unhealthy.  Its  disposition 
for  the  purpose  of  military  bounties  has  retarded  its 
settlement  behind  that  of  any  other  quarter  of  the 
state  ;  a  very  inconsiderable  portion  has  been  ap- 
propriated by  the  soldiers ;  most  of  the  titles  have 


100  THE    FAR   WEST. 

long  since  departed,  and  the  land  has  been  disposed 
of  past  redemption  for  taxes.  Much  is  also  held 
by  non-residents,  who  estimate  it  at  an  exorbitant 
value  ;  but  large  tracts  can  be  obtained  for  a  trifling 
consideration,  the  purchaser  risking  the  title,  and 
many  flourishing  settlements  are  now  springing  up, 
especially  along  the  Mississippi. 

Near  the  southern  extremity  of  the  Military  Tract, 
at  a  point  where  the  river  sweeps  out  a  deep  bend 
from  its  western  bank,  about  fifty  years  since  was 
situated  the  little  French  village  of  Cape  au  Gris, 
or  Grindstone  Point,  so  named  from  the  neighbour- 
ing rocks.  The  French  seem  to  have  vied  with 
the  natives  in  rendering  the  "  signification"  con- 
formable to  the  "  thing  signified,'*  in  bestowing 
names  upon  their  explorations  in  the  West.  The 
village  of  Cape  au  Gris  was  situated  upon  the  bank 
of  the  river,  and,  so  late  as  1 811 ,  consisted  of  twenty 
or  thirty  families,  who  cultivated  a  "  common  field" 
of  five  hundred  acres  on  the  adjacent  prairie,  stretch- 
ing across  the  peninsula  towards  the  Mississippi. 
At  the  commencement  of  the  late  war  they  were 
driven  away  by  the  savages,  and  a  small  garrison 
from  the  cantonment  of  Belle  Fontaine,  at  the  conflu- 
ence, was  subsequently  stationed  near  the  spot  by 
General  Wilkinson.  A  few  years  after  the  close  of 
the  war  American  emigration  commenced.  This 
is  supposed  to  have  been  the  site,  also,  of  one  of  the 
forts  erected  by  La  Salle  on  his  second  visit  to  the 
West. 

As  we  ascended  the  Illinois,  flourishing  villages 
were  constantly  meeting  the  eye  upon  either  bank  of 
the  stream.  Among  these  we?e  the  euphonious 


THE    FAR   WEST.  101 

names  of  Monroe,  Montezuma,  Naples,  and  Havana ! 
At  Beardstown  the  rolling  prairie  is  looked  upon  for 
the  first  time  ;  it  afterward  frequently  recurs.  As 
our  steamer  drew  nigh  to  the  renowned  little  city  of 
Pekin,  we  beheld  the  bluffs  lined  with  people  of  all 
sexes  and  sizes,  watching  our  approach  as  we  round- 
ed up  to  the  landing.  Some  of  our  passengers,  sur- 
prised at  such  a  gathering  together  in  such  a  decent, 
well-behaved  little  settlement  as  Pekin,  sagely  sur- 
mised the  loss  of  a  day  from  the  calendar,  and  be- 
gan to  believe  it  the  first  instead  of  the  last  of  the 
week,  until  reflection  and  observation  induced  the  be- 
lief that  other  rites  than  those  of  religion  had  called 
the  multitude  together.  Landing,  streets,  tavern, 
and  groceries — which  latter,  be  it  spoken  of  the  re- 
nowned Pekin,  were  like  anything  but  "  angel's  vis- 
its" in  recurrence — all  were  swarmed  by  a  motley  as- 
semblage, seemingly  intent  upon  doing  nothing,  and 
that,  too,  in  the  noisiest  way.  Here  a  congregation 
of  keen-visaged  worthies  were  gathered  around  a 
loquacious  land-speculator,  beneath  the  shadow  of 
a  sign-post,  listening  to  an  eloquent  holding-forth 
upon  the  merits,  relative  and  distinctive,  of  prairie 
land  and  bluff;  there  a  cute-looking  personage,  with 
a  twinkle  of  the  eye  and  sanctimoniousness  of  phiz, 
was  vending  his  wares  by  the  token  of  a  flaunting 
strip  of  red  baize ;  while  lusty  viragoes,  with  infants 
at  the  breast,  were  battering  their  passage  through 
the  throng,  crowing  over  a  "bargain"  on  which  the 
"  cute"  pedler  had  cleared  not  more  than  cent,  per 
cent.  And  then  there  were  sober  men  and  men 
not  sober ;  individuals  half  seas  over  and  whole  seas 


102  THE    FAR   WEST. 

over,  all  in  as  merry  trim  as  well  might  be ;  while, 
as  a  sort  of  presiding  genius  over  the  Bacchanalia,  a 
worthy  wag,  tipsy  as  a  satyr,  in  a  long  calico  gown, 
was  prancing  through  the  multitude,  with  infinite 
importance,  on  the  skeleton  of  an  unhappy  horse, 
which,  between  nicking  and  docking,  a  spavined 
limb  and  a  spectral  eye,  looked  the  veritable  genius 
of  misery.  The  cause  of  all  this  commotion  ap- 
peared to  be  neither  more  nor  less  than  a  redoubted 
"monkey  show,"  which  had  wound  its  way  over 
the  mountains  into  the  regions  of  the  distant  West, 
and  reared  its  dingy  canvass  upon  the  smooth  sward 
of  the  prairie.  It  was  a  spectacle  by  no  means  to  be 
slighted,  and  "  divers  came  from  afar"  to  behold  its 
wonders. 

For  nothing,  perhaps,  have  foreign  tourists  in  our 
country  ridiculed  us  more  justly  than  for  that  pom- 
posity of  nomenclature  which  we  have  delighted 
to  apply  to  the  thousand  and  one  towns  and  villages 
sprinkled  over  our  maps  and  our  land;  instance 
whereof  this  same  renowned  representative  of  the 
Celestial  Empire  concerning  which  I  have  been 
writing.  Its  brevity  is  its  sole  commendation  ;  for 
as  to  the  taste  or  appropriateness  of  such  a  name 
for  such  a  place,  to  say  naught  of  the  euphony, 
there's  none.  And  then,  besides  Pekin,  there  are 
Romes,  and  Troys,  and  Palmyras,  and  Belgrades, 
Londons  and  Liverpools,  Babels  and  Babylons  with- 
out account,  all  rampant  in  the  glories  of  log  huts, 
with  sturdy  porkers  forth  issuing  from  their  sties, 
by  way,  doubtless,  of  the  sturdy  knight-errants  of 
yore  caracoling  from  the  sallyports  of  their  illus- 


T-:il3   FAR   WEST.  103 

trious  namesakes.  But  why,  in  the  name  of  all  pro- 
priety, this  everlasting  plagiarizing  of  the  Greek, 
Gothic,  Gallic  patronymics  of  the  Old  World,  so 
utterly  incongruous  as  applied  to  the  backwoods 
settlements  of  the  New  !  If  in  very  poverty  of  in- 
vention, or  in  the  meagerness  of  our  "  land's  lan- 
guage," we,  as  a  people,  feel  ourselves  unequal  to 
the  task — one,  indeed,  of  no  ordinary  magnitude — 
of  christening  all  the  newborn  villages  of  our  land 
with  melodious  and  appropriate  appellations,  may  it 
not  be  advisable  either  to  nominate  certain  worthy 
dictionary-makers  for  the  undertaking,  or  else  to  re- 
tain the  ancient  Indian  names  ?  Why  discard  the 
smooth-flowing,  expressive  appellations  bestowed 
by  the  injured  aborigines  upon  the  gliding  streams 
and  flowery  plains  of  this  land  of  their  fathers,  only 
to  supersede  them  by  affixes  most  foreign  and  ab- 
surd? "Is  this  proceeding  just  and  honourable" 
towards  that  unfortunate  race  ?  Have  we  visited 
them  with  so  many  returns  of  kindness  that  this 
would  overflow  the  cup  of  recompense  ?  Why  tear 
away  the  last  and  only  relic  of  the  past  yet  linger- 
ing in  our  midst  ?  Have  we  too  many  memorials 
of  the  olden  time  ?  Why  disrobe  the  venerable 
antique  of  that  classic  drapery  which  alone  can 
befit  the  severe  nobility  of  its  mien,  only  to  deck  it 
out  in  the  starched  and  tawdry  preciseness  of  a  de- 
generate taste  ? 
Illinois  River. 


104  THE    FAR  WEST. 


"  It  is  a  goodly  sight  to  see 
What  Heaven  hath  done  for  this  delicious  land  ! 
What  fruits  of  fragrance  blush  on  every  tree  ! 
What  goodly  prospects  o'er  the  hills  expand  !"    ' 

Ckilde  Harold. 

"  GOOD-EVENING,  sir ;  a  good-evening  to  ye,  sir ; 
pleased  with  our  village,  sir !"  This  was  the  frank 
and  free  salutation  a  genteel,  farmer-looking  person- 
age, with  a  broad  face,  a  broad-brimmed  hat,  and  a 
broad-skirted  coat,  addressed  to  me  as  I  stood  be- 
fore the  inn  door  at  Peoria,  looking  out  upon  her 
beautiful  lake.  On  learning,  in  reply  to  his  inquiry, 
"Whence  do  ye  come,  stranger?"  that  my  birth- 
spot  was  north  of  the  Potomac,  he  hailed  me  with 
hearty  greeting  and  warm  grasp  as  a  brother.  "  I 
am  a  Yankee,  sir ;  yes,  sir,  I  am  a  genuine  export 
of  the  old  *  Bay  State.'  Many  years  have  gone 
since  I  left  her  soil ;  but  I  remember  well  the  '  Mis- 
tress of  the  North,'  with  her  green  islands  and  blue 
waters.  In  my  young  days,  sir,  I  wandered  all  over 
the  six  states,  and  I  have  not  forgotten  the  valley 
of  the  Connecticut.  I  have  seen  the  '  Emporium* 
with  her  Neapolitan  bay,  and  I  have  looked  on 
the  '  city  of  the  monuments  and  fountains  ;'  but  in 
all  my  journey  ings,  stranger,  I  have  not  found  a 
spot  so  pleasant  as  this  little  quiet  Peoria  of  the 
Western  wilderness !"  Whether  to  smile  in  admi- 


THE    FAR    WEST.  105 

ration  or  to  smile  at  the  oddity  of  this  singular  com- 
pound of  truth  and  exaggeration,  propounded,  withal, 
in  such  grandiloquent  style  and  language,  I  was  at 
a  loss ;  and  so,  just  as  every  prudent  man  would 
have  acted  under  the  circumstances,  neither  was 
done  ;  and  the  quiet  remark,  "You  are  an  enthusi- 
ast, sir,"  was  all  that  betrayed  to  the  worthy  man 
the  emotions  of  the  sublime  and  ridiculous  of  which 
he  had  been  the  unwitting  cause. 

But,  truly,  the  little  town  with  this  soft  Indian 
name  is  a  beautiful  place,  as  no  one  who  has  ever 
visited  it  has  failed  to  remark.  The  incidents  of 
its  early  history  are  fraught  with  the  wild  and  ro- 
mantic. The  old  village  of  Peoria  was  one  of  the 
earliest  settlements  of  the  French  in  the  Mississippi 
Valley ;  and,  many  years  before  the  memory  of  the 
present  generation,  it  had  been  abandoned  by  its 
founders,  a  new  village  having  been  erected  upon 
the  present  site,  deemed  less  unhealthy  than  the 
former.  The  first  house  is  said  to  have  been  built 
in  new  Peoria,  or  La  ville  de  Maillet,  as  was  its  nom 
de  nique,  about  the  year  1778 ;  and  the  situation 
was  directly  at  the  outlet  of  the  lake,  one  mile  and 
a  half  below  the  old  settlement.  Its  inhabitants 
consisted  chiefly  of  that  wild,  semi-savage  race  of 
Indian  traders,  hunters,  trappers,  voyageurs,  couri- 
ers du  bois,  and  half-breeds,  which  long  formed  the 
sole  link  of  union  between  the  northern  lakes  and  the 
southwest.  After  residing  nearly  half  a  century  on 
this  pleasant  spot,  in  that  happy  harmony  with  their 
ferocious  neighbours  for  which  the  early  French 
were  so  remarkable,  they  were  at  length,  in  the 


106  THE    FAR   WEST. 

autumn  of  1812,  exiled  from  their  ancient  home  by 
the  militia  of  Illinois,  on  charge  of  conniving  at  In- 
dian atrocities  upon  our  people,  a  party  having  been 
fired  on  at  night  while  anchored  before  the  vil- 
lage in  their  boats.  The  villagers  fled  for  refuge 
to  their  friends  upon  the  Mississippi.  In  the  au- 
tumn of  the  succeeding  year,  General  Howard,  with 
1400  men,  ascended  the  Illinois;  a  fortress  was  con- 
structed at  Peoria  in  twelve  days  from  timber  cut 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  lake.  It  was  named 
Fort  Clarke,  and  was  occupied  by  a  detachment  of 
United  States'  troops.  In  course  of  a  few  weeks  the 
whole  frontier  was  swept  of  hostile  Indians.  On  the 
termination  of  hostilities  with  Great  Britain  the  fort 
was  abandoned,  and  soon  after  was  burned  by  the  In- 
dians, though  the  ruins  are  yet  to  be  seen.  The 
present  settlement  was  commenced  by  emigrants 
but  a  few  years  since,  and  has  advanced  with  a  ra- 
pidity scarcely  paralleled  even  in  the  West.  Geo- 
graphically, it  is  the  centre  of  the  state,  and  may  at 
some  future  day  become  its  seat  of  government.  It 
is  the  shire  town  of  a  county  of  the  same  name  ; 
has  a  handsome  courthouse  of  freestone  ;  the  neigh- 
bouring regions  are  fertile,  and  beds  of  bituminous 
coal  are  found  in  the  vicinity.  These  circumstances 
render  this  spot,  than  which  few  can  boast  a  more 
eventful  history,  one  of  the  most  eligible  locales  in 
the  state  for  the  emigrant.  Its  situation  is  indescri- 
bably beautiful,  extending  along  the  lake  of  the  same 
name,  the  Indian  name  of  which  was  Pinatahwee, 
for  several  miles  from  its  outlet.  This  water-sheet, 
which  is  little  more  than  an  expansion  of  the  stream 
of  from  one  to  three  miles,  s^retrhes  away  for  about 


THE    FAR    WEST.  107 

twenty,  and  is  divided  near  its  middle  by  a  contrac- 
tion called  the  Narrows.  Its  waters  are  exceeding- 
ly limpid,  gliding  gently  over  a  pebbly  bottom,  and 
abounding  in  fish  of  fifty  different  species,  from  which 
an  attempt  for  obtaining  oil  upon  a  large  scale  was 
commenced  a  few  years  since,  but  was  abandoned 
without  success.  Some  of  the  varieties  of  these  fish 
are  said  to  be  rare  and  curious.  Several  specimens 
of  a  species  called  the  "  Alligator  Garr"  have  been 
taken.  The  largest  was  about  seven  feet  in  length, 
a  yard  in  circumference,  and  encased  in  armour  of 
hornlike  scales  of  quadrilateral  form,  impenetrable 
to  a  rifle-ball.  The  weight  was  several  hundred 
pounds ;  the  form  and  the  teeth — of  which  there  were 
several  rows — similar  to  those  of  the  shark,  and,  upon 
the  whole,  the  creature  seemed  not  a  whit  less  for- 
midable. Another  singular  variety  found  is  the 
"  spoonfish,"  about  four  feet  in  length,  with  a  black 
skin,  and  an  extension  of  the  superior  mandible  for 
two  feet,  of  a  thin,  flat,  shovel-like  form,  used  proba- 
bly for  digging  its  food.  The  more  ordinary  species, 
pike,  perch,  salmon,  trout,  buffalo,  mullet,  and  cat- 
fish, abound  in  the  lake,  while  the  surface  is  covered 
with  geese,  ducks,  gulls,  a  species  of  water  turkey, 
and,  not  unfrequently,  swans  and  pelicans.  Its  bot- 
tom contains  curious  petrifactions  and  carnelions  of 
a  rare  quality. 

From  the  pebbly  shore  of  the  lake,  gushing  out 
with  fountains  of  sparkling  water  along  its  whole 
extent,  rises  a  rolling  bank,  upon  which  now  stands 
most  of  the  village.  A  short  distance  and  you  as- 
cend a  second  eminence,  and  beyond  this  you  reach 


108  THE    FAR   WEST. 

the  bluffs,  some  of  them  an  hundred  feet  in  height, 
gracefully  rounded,  and  corresponding  with  the  me* 
andering  of  the  stream  below.  From  the  summit  of 
these  bluffs  the  prospect  is  uncommonly  fine.  At 
their  base  is  spread  out  a  beautiful  prairie,  its  tall 
grass-tops  and  bright-died  flowerets  nodding  to  the 
soft  summer  wind.  Along  its  eastern  border  is  ex* 
tended  a  range  of  neat  edifices,  while  lower  down 
sleep  the  calm,  clear  waters  of  the  lake,  unruffled  by 
a  ripple,  and  reflecting  from  its  placid  bosom  the 
stupendous  vegetation  of  the  wooded  alluvion  be- 
yond. 

It  was  near  the  close  of  a  day  of  withering  sultri* 
ness  that  we  reached  Peoria.  Passing  the  Kickapoo, 
or  Red  Bud  Creek,  a  sweep  in  the  stream  opened 
before  the  eye  a  panorama  of  that  magnificent  water* 
sheet  of  which  I  have  spoken,  so  calm  and  motion- 
less that  its  mirror  surface  seemed  suspended  in  the 
golden  mistiness  of  the  summer  atmosphere  which 
floated  over  it.  As  we  were  approaching  the  village 
a  few  sweet  notes  of  a  bugle  struck  the  ear;  and  in 
a  few  moments  a  lengthened  troop  of  cavalry,  with 
baggage-cars  and  military  paraphernalia,  was  beheld 
winding  over  a  distant  roll  of  the  prairie,  their  arms 
glittering  gayly  in  the  horizontal  beams  of  the  sinking 
sun  as  the  ranks  appeared,  were  lost,  reappeared,  and 
then,  by  an  inequality  in  the  route,  were  concealed 
from  the  view.  The  steamer  "Helen  Mar"  was 
lying  at  the  landing  as  we  rounded  up,  most  terribly 
shattered  by  the  collapsing  of  the  flue  of  one  of  her 
boilers  a  few  days  before  in  the  vicinity.  She  had 
been  swept  by  the  death-blast  from  one  extremity 


THE    FAR   WEST*  109 

to  the  other,  and  everything  was  remaining  just  as 
when  the  accident  occurred,  even  to  the  pallets  upon 
which  had  been  stretched  the  mangled  bodies,  and 
the  remedies  applied  for  their  relief.  The  disasters 
of  steam  have  become,  till  of  late,  of  such  ordinary 
occurrence  upon  the  waters  of  the  West,  that  they 
have  been  thought  of  comparatively  but  little;  yet 
in  no  aspect  does  the  angel  of  death  perform  his 
bidding  more  fearfully.  Misery's  own  pencil  can 
delineate  no  scene  of  horror  more  revolting ;  hu- 
manity knows  no  visitation  more  terrible !  The 
atmosphere  of  hell  envelops  the  victim  and  sweeps 
him  from  the  earth  3 

Happening  casually  to  fall  in  with  several  gentle- 
men at  the  inn  who  chanced  to  have  some  acquaint- 
ance with  the  detachment  of  dragoons  I  have  men- 
tioned, I  accepted  with  pleasure  an  invitation  to 
accompany  them  on  a  visit  to  the  encampment  a 
few  miles  from  the  town.  The  moon  was  up,  and 
was  flinging  her  silvery  veil  over  the  landscape 
when  we  reached  the  bivouac.  It  was  a  pictu- 
resque spot,  a  low  prairie-bottom  on  the  margin  of 
the  lake,  beneath  a  range  of  wooded  bluffs  in  the 
rear ;  and  the  little  white  tents  sprinkled  about  upon 
the  green  shrubbery  beneath  the  trees ;  the  stacks 
of  arms  and  military  accoutrements  piled  up  be- 
neath or  suspended  from  their  branches ;  the  dra- 
goons around  their  tents,  engaged  in  the  culinary 
operations  of  the  'camp,  or  listlessly  lolling  upon  the 
grass  as  the  laugh  and  jest  went  free ;  the  horses 
grazing  among  the  thickets,  while  over  the  whole 
was  resting  the  misty  splendour  of  the  moonlight, 

VOL.  I.— K         >     * 


110  THE   FAR  WEST, 

made  up  a  tout  ensemble  not  unworthy  the  crayon 
of  a  Weir.  The  detachment  was  a  small  one, 
consisting  of  only  one  hundred  men,  under  com- 
mand of  Captain  S ,  on  an  excursion  from 

Camp  des  Moines,  at  the  lower  rapids  of  the  Missis- 
sippi, to  Fort  Howard,  on  Green  Bay,  partially  oc- 
casioned by  a  rumour  of  Indian  hostilities  threaten- 
ed in  that  vicinity.  They  were  a  portion  of  several 
companies  of  the  first  regiment  of  dragoons,  levied 
by  Congress  a  few  years  since  for  the  protection 
of  the  Western  frontier,  in  place  of  the  "  Rangers," 
so  styled,  in  whom  that  trust  had  previously  reposed. 
They  were  all  Americans,  resolute-looking  fellows 
enough,  and  originally  rendezvoused  at  Jefferson 
Barracks.  The  design  of  such  a  corps  is  doubtless 
an  excellent  one ;  but  military  men  tell  us  that  some 
unpardonable  omissions  were  made  in  the  provisions 
of  the  bill  reported  by  Congress  in  which  the  corps 
had  its  origin ;  for,  according  to  the  present  regula- 
tions, all  approximation  to  discipline  is  precluded. 

Captain  S received  us  leisurely  reclining  upon 

a  buffalo-robe  in  his  tent ;  and,  in  a  brief  interview, 
we  found  him  possessed  of  all  that  gentlemanly 
naivete  which  foreign  travellers  would  have  us  be- 
lieve is,  in  our  country,  confined  to  the  profession 
of  arms.  The  night-dews  of  the  lowlands  had  for 
some  hours  been  falling  when  we  reached  the  vil- 
lage drenched  with  their  damps. 

Much  to  our  regret,  the  stage  of  water  in  the 
Illinois  would  not  permit  our  boat  to  ascend  the 
stream,  as  had  been  the  intention,  to  Hennepin, 
some  twenty  miles  above,  and  Ottawa,  at  the  foot 
of  the  rapids.  Nearly  equidistant  between  these 


THE   FAR  WEST.  Ill 

Nourishing  towns,  upon  the  eastern  bank  of  the  Illi- 
nois, is  situated  that  remarkable  crag,  termed  by 
the  early  French  "  Le  Rocher"  by  the  Indian  tradi- 
tions "  Starved  Rock?  and  by  the  present  dwellers 
in  its  vicinity,  as  well  as  by  Schoolcraft  and  the 
maps,  "  Rockfort."  It  is  a  tall  cliff,  composed  of 
alternate  strata  of  lime  and  sandstone,  about  two 
hundred  and  fifty  feet  in  height  by  report,  and  one 
hundred  and  thirty-four  by  actual  measurement. 
Its  base  is  swept  by  the  current,  and  it  is  perfectly 
precipitous  upon  three  sides.  The  fourth  side,  by 
which  alone  it  is  accessible,  is  connected  with  the 
neighbouring  range  of  bluffs  by  a  natural  causeway, 
which  can  be  ascended  only  by  a  difficult  and  tortu- 
ous path.  The  summit  of  the  crag  is  clothed  with 
soil  to  the  depth  of  several  feet,  sufficient  to  sustain 
a  growth  of  stunted  cedars.  It  is  about  one  hundred 
feet  in  diameter,  and  comprises  nearly  an  acre  of 
level  land.  The  name  of  "  Starved  Rock"  was  ob- 
tained by  this  inaccessible  battlement  from  a  legend 
of  Indian  tradition,  an  outline  of  which  may  be  found 
in  Flint's  work  upon  the  Western  Valley,  and  an 
interesting  story  wrought  from  its  incidents  in  Hall's 
"  Border  Tales."  A  band  of  the  Illini  having  assas- 
sinated Pontiac,  the  Ottoway  chieftain,  in  1767,  the 
tribe  of  the  Pottawattamies  made  war  upon  them. 
The  Illini,  being  defeated,  fled  for  refuge  to  this  rock, 
which  a  little  labour  soon  rendered  inaccessible  to 
all  the  assaults  of  their  enemy.  At  this  crisis,  after 
repeated  repulse,  the  besiegers  determined  to  reduce 
the  hold  by  starvation,  as  the  only  method  remain- 
ing. The  tradition  of  this  siege  affords,  perhaps, 


112  THE    FAR    WEST. 

as  striking  an  illustration  of  Indian  character  as  is 
furnished  by  our  annals  of  the  unfortunate  race. 
Food  in  some  considerable  quantity  had  been  pro- 
vided by  the  besieged  ;  but  when,  parched  by  thirst, 
they  attempted  during  the  night  to  procure  water 
from  the  cool  stream  rushing  below  them  by  means 
of  ropes  of  bark,  the  enemy  detected  the  design,  and 
their  vessels  were  cut  off  by  a  guard  in  canoes.  The 
last  resource  was  defeated ;  every  stratagem  dis- 
covered; hope  was  extinguished;  the  unutterable 
tortures  of  thirst  were  upon  them  ;  a  terrific  death  in 
anticipation ;  yet  they  yielded  not ;  the  speedier  tor- 
ments of  the  stake  and  a  triumph  to  their  foes  was 
the  alternative.  And  so  they  perished — all,  with  a 
solitary  exception — a  woman,  who  was  adopted  by 
the  hostile  tribe,  and  was  living  not  half  a  century 
since.  Far  years  the  summit  of  this  old  cliff  was 
whitened  by  the  bones  of  the  victims ;  and  quantities 
of  remains,  as  well  as  arrow-heads  and  domestic 
utensils,  are  at  the  present  day  exhumed.  Shells 
are  also  found,  but  their  whence  and  wherefore  are 
not  easily  determined.  At  the  only  accessible  point 
there  is  said  to  be  an  appearance  of  an  intrenchment 
and  rampart.  A  glorious  view  of  the  Illinois,  which, 
forming  a  curve,  laves  more  than  half  of  the  col- 
umn's base,  is  obtained  from  the  summit.  An  an- 
cient post  of  the  French  is  believed  to  have  once 
stood  here. 

Brightly  were  the  moonbeams  streaming  over  the 
blue  lake  Pinatahwee  as  our  steamer  glided  from  its 
waters.  Near  midnight,  as  we  swept  past  Pekin, 
we  were  roused  from  our  slumbers  by  the  plaintive 


THE    FAR   WEST.  113 

notes  of  the  "  German  Hymn,"  which  mellowly 
came  stealing  from  distance  over  the  waters ;  and 
we  almost  pardoned  the  "  Menagerie"  its  multifold 
transgressions  because  of  that  touching  air.  There 
is  a  chord  in  almost  every  bosom,  however  rough 
and  unharmonious  its  ordinary  emotions,  which  fails 
not  to  vibrate  beneath  the  gentle  influences  of  "sweet 
sounds."  From  this,  as  from  the  strings  of  the  wind- 
harp,  a  zephyr  may  elicit  a  melody  of  feeling  which 
the  storm  could  never  have  awakened.  There  are 
seasons,  too,  when  the  nerves  and  fibres  of  the  sys- 
tem, reposing  in  quietness,  are  most  exquisitely  at- 
tempered to  the  mysterious  influences  and  the  deli- 
cate breathings  of  harmony  ;  and  such  a  season  is 
that  calm,  holy  hour,  when  deep  sleep  hath  descend- 
ed upon  man,  and  his  unquiet  pulsings  have  for  an 
interval  ceased  their  fevered  beat.  To  be  awa- 
kened then  by  music's  cadence  has  upon  us  an 
effect  unearthly !  It  calls  forth  from  their  depths 
the  richest  emotions  of  the  heart.  The  moonlight 
serenade !  Ah,  its  wild  witchery  has  told  upon 
the  romance  of  many  a  young  bosom  !  If  you  have 
a  mistress,  and  you  would  woo  her  not  vainly,  woo 
her  thus !  I  remember  me,  when  once  a  resident 
of  the  courtly  city  of  L ,  to  have  been  awa- 
kened one  morning  long  before  the  dawn  by  a 
strain  of  distant  music,  which,  swelling  and  rising 
upon  the  still  night-air,  came  floating  like  a  spirit 
through  the  open  windows  and  long  galleries  of  the 
building.  I  arose ;  all  was  calm,  and  silent,  and 
deserted  through  the  dim,  lengthened  streets  of  the 
city.  Not  a  light  gleamed  from  a  casement ;  not  a 


1' 14  THE   FAR  WEST, 

footfall  echoed  from  the  pavement;  not  a  brealfo 
broke  the  stillness  save  the  crowing  of  the  far-off 
cock  proclaiming  the  morn,  and  the  low  rumble  of 
the  marketman's  wagon;  and  then,  swelling  upon 
the  night-wind,  fitfully  came  up  that  beautiful  gush 
of  melody,  wave  upon  wave,  surge  after  surge,  bil- 
low upon  billow,  winding  itself  into  the  innermost 
cells  of  the  soul  I 

**  Oh,  it  came  o'er  my  ear  like  the  sweet  South, 
That  breathes  upon  a  bank  of  violets. 
Stealing  and  giving  ©d*ur." 

Elinois  River, 


XI. 

"  You  will  excuse  me  if  I  do  not  strictly  confine  myself  to  nar- 
ration, but  now  and  then  interpose  such  reflections  as  may  offer 
while  I  am  writing." — NEWTON. 

"  Each  was  a  giant  heap  of  mouldering  clay  ; 

There  slept  the  warriors,  women,  friends,  and  foes ; 
There,  side  by  side,  the  rival  chieftains  lay, 
And  mighty  tribes  swept  from  the  face  of  day." 

FLINT. 

MORE  than  three  weeks  ago  I  found  myself,  one 
bright  morning  at  sunrise,  before  the  city  of  St. 
Louis  on  descending  the  Illinois  ;  and  in  that  vener- 
able little  city  have  I  ever  since  been  a  dweller.  A 
series  of  those  vexatious  delays,  ever  occurring  to 
balk  the  designs  of  the  tourist,  have  detained  me 
longer  than  could  have  been  anticipated.  Not  the 


THE    FAR   WEST.  115 

most  inconsiderable  of  these  preventives  to  locomo- 
tion in  this  bustling,  swapping,  chaffering  little  city, 
strange  as  it  may  seem,  has  been  the  difficulty  of  pro- 
curing, at  a  conscionable  outlay  of  dollars  and  cents, 
a  suitable  steed  for  a  protracted  jaunt.  But,  thanks 
to  the  civility  or  selfism  of  a  friend,  this  difficulty  is 
at  an  end,  and  I  have  at  length  succeeded  in  securing 
the  reversion  of  a  tough,  spirited  little  bay,  which, 
by  considerate  usage  and  bountiful  foddering,  may 
serve  to  bear  me,  with  the  requisite  quantum  of  speed 
and  safety,  over  the  prairies.  A  few  days,  there- 
fore, when  the  last  touch  of  acclimation  shall  have 
taken  its  leave,  and  "  I'm  over  the  border  and  awa'." 
The  city  of  San'  Louis,  now  hoary  with  a  cen- 
tury's years,  was  one  of  those  early  settlements 
planted  by  the  Canadian  French  up  and  down  the 
great  valley,  from  the  Northern  Lakes  to  the  Gulf, 
while  the  English  colonists  of  Plymouth  and  James- 
town were  wringing  out  a  wretched  subsistence  along 
the  steril  shores  of  the  Atlantic,  wearied  out  by 
constant  warfare  with  the  thirty  Indian  tribes  within 
their  borders.  Attracted  by  the  beauty  of  the  coun- 
try, the  fertility  of  its  soil,  the  boundless  variety  of 
its  products,  the  exhaustless  mineral  treasures  be- 
neath its  surface,  and  the  facility  of  the  trade  in  the 
furs  of  the  Northwest,  a  flood  of  Canadian  emigra- 
tion opened  southward  after  the  discoveries  of  La 
Salle,  and  the  little  villages  of  Cahokia,  Kaskaskia, 
Prairie  du  Po,  Prairie  du  Rocher,  St.  Phillipe,  St. 
Ferdinand,  Peoria,  Fort  Chartres,  Vuide  Poche, 
Petites  Cotes,  now  St.  Charles,  Pain  Court,  now 
St.  Louis,  and  others,  successively  sprang  up  in 


116  THE    FAR   WEST. 

the  howling  waste.  Over  nearly  all  this  terri- 
tory have  the  Gaul,  the  Spaniard,  the  Briton,  and 
the  Anglo-American  held  rule,  and  a  dash  of  the 
national  idiosyncrasy  of  each  may  be  detected. 
Especially  true  is  this  of  St.  Louis.  There  is  an 
antiquated,  venerable  air  about  its  narrow  streets  and 
the  ungainly  edifices  of  one  portion  of  it ;  the  steep- 
roofed  stone  cottage  of  the  Frenchman,  and  the  tall 
stuccoed-dwelling  of  the  Don,  not  often  beheld.  A 
mellowing  touch  of  time,  which  few  American  cities 
can  boast,  has  passed  over  it,  rendering  it  a  spot  of 
peculiar  interest  to  one  with  the  slightest  spirit  of 
the  antiquary,  in  a  country  where  all  else  is  new. 
The  modern  section  of  the  city,  with  its  regular 
streets  and  lofty  edifices,  which,  within  the  past 
fifteen  years,  has  arisen  under  the  active  hand  of  the 
northern  emigrant,  presents  a  striking  contrast  to 
the  old. 

The  site  of  St.  Louis  is  elevated  and  salubrious, 
lying  for  some  miles  along  the  Mississippi  upon 
two  broad  plateaux  or  steppes  swelling  up  gently 
from  the  water's  edge.  Along  the  first  of  these, 
based  upon  an  exhaustless  bed  of  limestone,  which 
furnishes  material  for  building,  are  situated  the  low- 
er and  central  portions  of  the  city,  while  that  above 
sweeps  away  in  an  extensive  prairie  of  stunted 
black-jack  oaks  to  the  west.  The  latter  section  is 
already  laid  out  into  streets  and  building-lots ;  ele- 
gant structures  are  rapidly  going  up,  and,  at  no  dis- 
tant day,  this  is  destined  to  become  the  most  courtly 
and  beautiful  portion  of  the  city.  It  is  at  a  pleasant 
remove  from  the  dust  and  bustle  of  the  landing, 


THE    FAR  WEST.'  117 

while  its  elevation  affords  a  fine  view  of  the  harbour 
and  opposite  shore.  Yet,  with  all  its  improvements 
of  the  past  few  years,  St.  Louis  remains  emphati- 
cally "  a  little  French  city."  There  is  about  it  a 
cheerful  village  air,  a  certain  rus  in  urbe,  to  which 
the  grenadier  preciseness  of  most  of  our  cities  is  the 
antipodes.  There  are  but  few  of  those  endless, 
rectilinear  avenues,  cutting  each  other  into  broad 
squares  of  lofty  granite  blocks,  so  characteristic  of 
the  older  cities  of  the  North  and  East,  or  of  those 
cities  of  tramontane  origin  so  rapidly  rising  within 
the  boundaries  of  the  valley.  There  yet  remains 
much  in  St.  Louis  to  remind  one  of  its  village  days ; 
and  a  stern  eschewal  of  mathematical,  angular  ex- 
actitude is  everywhere  beheld.  Until  within  a  few 
years  there  was  no  such  thing  as  a  row  of  houses ; 
all  were  disjoined  and  at  a  considerable  distance 
from  each  other ;  and  every  edifice,  however  central, 
could  boast  its  humble  stoop,  its  front-door  plat,  be- 
decked with  shrubbery  and  flowers,  and  protected 
from  the  inroads  of  intruding  man  or  beast  by  its  own 
tall  stoccade.  All  this  is  now  confined  to  the  south- 
ern or  French  section  of  the  city  ;  a  right  Rip  Van 
Winkle-looking  region,  where  each  little  steep- 
roofed  cottage  yet  presents  its  broad  piazza,  and  the 
cosey  settee  before  the  door  beneath  the  tree  shade, 
with  the  fleshy  old  burghers  soberly  luxuriating  on 
an  evening  pipe,  their  dark-eyed,  brunette  daughters 
at  their  side.  There  is  a  delightful  air  of  "  old- 
fashioned  comfortableness"  in  all  this,  that  reminds 
us  of  nothing  we  have  seen  in  our  own  country,  but 
much  of  the  antiquated  villages  of  which  we  have 


118  THE    FAR   WEST. 

been  told  in  the  land  beyond  the  waters.  Among 
those  remnants  of  a  former  generation  which  are  yet 
to  be  seen  in  St.  Louis  are  the  venerable  mansions 
of  Auguste  and  Pierre  Chouteau,  who  were  among 
the  founders  of  the  city.  These  extensive  mansions 
stand  upon  the  principal  street,  and  originally  occu- 
pied, with  their  grounds,  each  of  them  an  entire 
square,  enclosed  by  lofty  walls  of  heavy  masonry, 
with  loopholes  and  watch-towers  for  defence.  The 
march  of  improvement  has  encroached  upon  the 
premises  of  these  ancient  edifices  somewhat;  yet 
they  are  still  inhabited  by  the  posterity  of  their 
builders,  and  remain,  with  their  massive  walls  of 
stone,  monuments  of  an  earlier  era. 

The  site  upon  which  stands  St.  Louis  was  se- 
lected in  1763  by  M.  Laclede,  a  partner  of  a  mer- 
cantile association  at  New-Orleans,  to  whom  D'Ab- 
badie,  Director-general  of  the  province  of  Louisiana, 
had  granted  the  exclusive  privilege  of  the  commerce 
in  furs  and  peltries  with  the  Indian  tribes  of  the  Up- 
per Mississippi  and  Missouri  Rivers.  By  the  treaty 
of  that  year  France  had  ceded  all  her  possessions 
east  of  the  Mississippi  to  Great  Britain,  and  there 
was  on  the  western  shore  only  the  small  village  of 
Ste.  Genevieve.  This  was  subsequently  deemed 
too  distant  from  the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi  to  be 
a  suitable  depot  and  post  for  the  fur-trade  ;  and  La- 
clede, having  surveyed  all  the  neighbouring  region, 
fixed  upon  the  spot  where  St.  Louis  now  stands  as 
a  more  eligible  site.  Whether  this  site  was  selected 
by  the  flight  of  birds,  by  consultation  of  the  entrails 
of  beasts,  or  the  voice  of  an  oracle  ;  whether  by  ac- 


THE    FAR    WEST.  .      119 

cident  or  design,  tradition  averreth  not.  Yet  sure  is 
it,  that  under  the  concurrence  of  all  these  omens,  a 
more  favourable  selection  could  not  have  been  made 
than  this  has  proved.  It  is  related,  however,  that 
when  the  founder  of  the  city  first  planted  foot  upon 
the  shore,  the  imprint  of  a  human  foot,  naked  and 
of  gigantic  dimensions,  was  found  enstamped  upon 
the  solid  limestone  rock,  and  continued  in  regular 
succession  as  if  of  a  man  advancing  from  the  water's 
edge  to  the  plateau  above.*  By  a  more  superstitious 
age  this  circumstance  would  have  been  deemed  an 
omen,  and,  as  such,  commemorated  in  the  chronicles 
of  the  city.  On  the  15th  of  February,  1764,  Col- 
onel Auguste  Chouteau,  with  a  number  of  persons 
from  Ste.  Genevieve,  Cahokia,  and  Fort  Chartres, 
arrived  at  the  spot,  and  commenced  a  settlement  by 
felling  a  splendid  grove  of  forest-trees  which  then 
reared  itself  upon  the  bank,  and  erecting  a  building 
where  the  market-house  now  stands.  The  town  was 
then  laid  off,  and  named  in  honour  of  Louis  XV., 
the  reigning  monarch  of  France,  though  the  set- 
tlers were  desirous  of  giving  it  the  name  of  its  found- 
er :  to  this  Laclede  would  not  consent.  He  died 
at  the  post  of  Arkansas  in  1778;  Colonel  Chou- 
teau followed  him  in  the  month  of  February  of  1829, 
just  sixty-four  years  from  the  founding  of  the  city. 
He  had  been  a  constant  resident,  had  seen  the  spot 
merge  from  the  wilderness,  and  had  become  one  of 
its  most  opulent  citizens. 

For  many  years  St.  Louis  was  called  "Pain 

*  The  imprint  of  a  human  foot  is  yet  to  be  seen  in  the  limestone 
of  the  shore  not  far  from  the  landing  at  St.  Louis. 


120  THE    FAR  WEST. 

Court"  from  the  scarcity  of  provisions,  which  cir- 
cumstance at  one  period  almost  induced  the  set- 
tlers to  abandon  their  design.  In  1765  Fort  Char- 
tres  was  delivered  to  Great  Britain,  and  the  com- 
mandant, St.  Ange,  with  his  troops,  only  twenty- 
two  in  number,  proceeded  to  St.  Louis ;  and  assu- 
ming the  government,  the  place  was  ever  after  con- 
sidered the  capital  of  the  province.  Under  the  ad- 
ministration of  St.  Ange,  which  is  said  to  have 
been  mild  and  patriarchal,  the  common  field  was  laid 
open,  and  each  settler  became  a  cultivator  of  the 
soil.  This  field  comprised  several  thousand  acres, 
lying  upon  the  second  steppe  mentioned,  and  has 
recently  been  divided  into  lots  and  sold  to  the  high- 
est bidder.  Three  years  after  the  arrival  of  St. 
Ange,  Spanish  troops  under  command  of  Don  Rious 
took  possession  of  the  province  agreeable  to  treaty ; 
but,  owing  to  the  dissatisfaction  of  the  inhabitants, 
no  official  authority  was  exercised  until  1770. 
Thirty  years  afterward  the  province  was  retroceded 
to  France,  and  from  that  nation  to  the  United  States. 
In  the  spring  of  1778  an  attack  was  made  upon  the 
village  by  a  large  body  of  the  northern  Indians,  at 
the  instigation  of  the  English.  They  were  repulsed 
with  a  loss  of  about  twenty  of  the  settlers,  and  the 
year  was  commemorated  as  "  ISannee  du  grand 
coup"  In  the  spring  of  1785,  the  Mississippi  rose 
thirty  feet  above  the  highest  water-mark  previously 
known,  and  the  American  Bottom  was  inundated. 
This  year  was  remembered  as  "  L'annee  des  grand 


eaux" 


At  that  period  commerce  with  New-Orleans,  for 


THE   FAR  WEST.  121 

ihe  purpose  of  obtaining  merchandise  for  the  fur 
trade,  was  carried  on  exclusively  by  keel-boats  and 
barges,  which  in  the  spring  started  upon  their  voy- 
age of  more  than  a  thousand  miles,  and  in  the  fall 
of  the  year  slowly  returned  against  the  current. 
This  mode  of  transportation  was  expensive,  tedious, 
and  unsafe  ;  and  it  was  rendered  yet  more  hazard- 
ous from  the  murders  and  robberies  of  a  large  band 
of  freebooters,  under  two  chiefs,  Culburt  and  Magil- 
bray,  who  stationed  themselves  at  a  place  called  Cot- 
ton Wood  Creek,  on  the  Mississippi,  and  captured 
the  ascending  boats.  This  band  was  dispersed  by 
a  little  fleet  of  ten  barges,  which,  armed  with  swiv- 
els, ascended  the  river  in  company.  This  year  was 
remembered  as  "  Vannee  des  bateaux"  All  the  in- 
convenience of  this  method  of  transportation  con- 
tinued to  be  experienced  until  the  introduction  of 
steam  upon  the  Western  waters ;  and  the  first  boat  of 
this  kind  which  made  its  appearance  at  the  port  of  St. 
Louis  was  the  "  General  Pike,"  in  1817.  This  boat 
was  commanded  by  Captain  Jacob  Reed,  and,  at  the 
time  of  its  arrival,  a  large  body  of  a  neighbouring 
Indian  tribe  chanced  to  have  an  encampment  in  the 
suburbs  of  the  city.  Their  astonishment,  and  even 
terror,  at  first  sight  of  the  evolutions  of  the  steamer, 
are  said  to  have  been  indescribable.  They  viewed 
it  as  nothing  less  than  a  living  thing;  a  monster 
of  tremendous  power,  commissioned  by  the  "  Great 
Spirit"  for  their  extermination,  and  their  humiliation 
was  proportional  to  their  terror.  Great  opposition 
was  raised  against  steamers  by  the  boatmen,  some 
thousands  of  whom,  by  their  introduction,  would 
VOL.  I.— L  A  ' 


122  THE    FAR    WEST. 

be  thrown  out  of  employment ;  but  this  feeling  grad- 
ually passed  away,  and  now  vessels  propelled  by 
steam  perform  in  a  few  days  a  voyage  which  for- 
merly required  as  many  months.  A  trip  to  the  city, 
as  New-Orleans,  par  excellence,  was  styled,  then 
demanded  weeks  of  prior  preparation,  and  a  man 
put  his  house  and  household  in  order  before  setting 
out :  now  it  is  an  ordinary  jaunt  of  pleasure.  The 
same  dislike  manifested  by  the  old  French  habitans 
to  the  introduction  of  the  steamer  or  smoke-boat, 
"  bateau  a  vapeur,"  as  they  termed  it,  has  betrayed 
itself  at  every  advance  of  modern  improvement. 
Erected,  as  St.  Louis  was,  with  no  design  of  a  city, 
its  houses  were  originally  huddled  together  with  a 
view  to  nothing  but  convenience  ;  and  its  streets 
were  laid  out  too  narrow  and  too  irregular  for  the 
bustle  and  throng  of  mercantile  operations.  In  en- 
deavouring to  correct  this  early  error,  by  removing 
a  few  of  the  old  houses  and  projecting  balconies, 
great  opposition  has  been  encountered.  Some  de- 
gree of  uniformity  in  the  -three  principal  streets  par- 
allel to  the  river  has,  however,  by  this  method  been 
attained.  Water-street  is  well  built  up  with  a  se- 
ries of  lofty  limestone  warehouses  ;  but  an  irretriev- 
able error  has  been  committed  in  arranging  them 
at  so  short  a  distance  from  the  water.  On  some 
accounts  this  proximity  to  the  river  may  be  conve- 
nient ;  but  for  the  sake  of  a  broad  arena  for  com- 
merce ;  for  the  sake  of  a  fresh  and  salubrious  circu- 
lation of  air  from  the  water  ;  for  the  sake  of  scenic 
beauty,  or  a  noble  promenade  for  pleasure,  there 
should  have  been  no  encroachment  upon  the  pre- 


THE    FAR    WEST.  123 

cincts  of  the  "  eternal  river."  In  view  of  the  mis- 
erable plan  of  St.  Louis,  if  it  may  claim  anything 
of  the  kind,  and  the  irregular  manner  and  singular 
taste  with  which  it  has  been  built,  the  regret  has 
more  than  once  been  expressed,  that,  like  Detroit,* 
a  conflagration  had  not  swept  it  in  its  earlier  days, 
and  given  place  to  an  arrangement  at  once  more 
consistent  with  elegance  and  convenience. 

From  the  river  bank  to  the  elevated  ground 
sweeping  off  in  the  rear  of  the  city  to  the  west  is  a 
distance  of  several  hundred  yards,  and  the  height 
above  the  level  of  the  water  cannot  be  far  from  an 
hundred  feet.  The  ascent  is  easy,  however,  and  a 
noble  view  is  obtained,  from  the  cupola  of  the  court- 
house on  its  summit,  of  the  Mississippi  and  the  city 
below,  of  the  broad  American  Bottom,  with  its  bluffs 
in  the  distance,  and  a  beautiful  extent  of  natural 
scenery  in  the  rear.  Along  the  brow  of  this  emi- 
nence once  stood  a  line  of  military  works,  erected 
for  the  defence  of  the  old  town  in  1780  by  Don 
Francois  de  Cruzat,  lieutenant  governor  "  de  la 
partie  occidentale  des  Illinois"  as  the  ancient  chron- 
icles style  the  region  west  of  the  Mississippi.  These 
fortifications  consisted  of  several  circular  towers  of 
stone,  forty  feet  in  diameter  and  half  as  many  in  al- 
titude, planted  at  intervals  in  a  line  of  stoccade,  be- 
sides a  small  fort,  embracing  four  demilunes  and  a 
parapet  of  mason-work.  For  many  years  these  old 
works  were  in  a  dismantled  and  deserted  state,  ex- 
cepting the  fort,  in  one  building  of  which  was  held 

*  In  1805. 


124  THE    FAR   WEST. 

the  court,  and  another  superseded  the  necessity  of  a 
prison.  Almost  every  vestige  is  now  swept  away. 
The  great  earthquakes  of  1811  essentially  assisted 
in  toppling  the  old  ruins  to  the  ground.  The  whole 
city  was  powerfully  shaken,  and  has  since  been 
subject  to  occasional  shocks.* 

It  is  in  the  northern  suburbs  of  the  city  that  are 
to  be  seen  those  singular  ancient  mounds  for  which 
St.  Louis  is  so  celebrated ;  and  which,  with  others 
in  the  vicinity,  form,  as  it  were,  a  connecting  link 
between  those  of  the  north,  commencing  in  the  lake 
counties  of  Western  New-York,  and  those  of  the 
south,  extending  deep  within  the  boundaries  of  Mex- 
ico, forming  an  unbroken  line  from  one  extremity 
of  the  great  valley  to  the  other.  Their  position  at 
St.  Louis  is,  as  usual,  a  commanding  one,  upon  the 
second  bank,  of  which  I  have  spoken,  and  looking 
proudly  down  upon  the  Mississippi,  along  which  the 
line  is  parallel.  They  stand  isolated,  or  distinct 
from  each  other,  in  groups  ;  and  the  outline  is  gen- 
erally that  of  a  rectangular  pyramid,  truncated  near- 
ly one  half.  The  first  collection  originally  consisted 
of  ten  tumuli,  arranged  as  three  sides  of  a  square  area 
of  about  four  acres,  and  the  open  flank  to  the  west 
was  guarded  by  five  other  small  circular  earth-heaps, 
isolated,  and  forming  the  segment  of  a  circle  around 

*  One,  which  occurred  during  the  summer  of  the  present  year, 
was  extensively  felt.  In  the  vicinity  of  this  fortification,  to  the 
south,  was  an  extensive  burial-ground  ;  and  many  of  its  slumbering 
tenants,  in  the  grading  of  streets  and  excavating  of  cellars^  have- 
been  thrown  up  to  the  light  after  a  century's  sleep. 


THE    FAR    WEST.  125 

the  opening.  This  group  is  now  almost  completely 
destroyed  by  the  grading  of  streets  and  the  erection 
of  edifices,  and  the  eastern  border  may  alone  be 
traced.  North  of  the  first  collection  of  tumuli  is  a 
second,  four  or  five  in  number,  and  forming  two 
sides  of  a  square.  Among  these  is  one  of  a  very 
beautiful  form,  consisting  of  three  stages,  and  called 
the  "  Falling  Garden."  Its  elevation  above  the  level 
of  the  second  plateau  is  about  four  feet,  and  the 
area  is  ample  for  a  dwelling  and  yard ;  from  the 
second  it  descends  to  the  first  plateau  along  the 
river  by  three  regular  gradations,  the  first  with  a 
descent  of  two  feet,  the  second  of  ten,  and  the  lower 
one  of  five,  each  stage  presenting  a  beautiful  site  for 
a  house.  For  this  purpose,  however,  they  can  never 
be  appropriated,  as  one  of  the  principal  streets  of 
the  city  is  destined  to  pass  directly  through  the 
spot,  the  grading  for  which  is  already  commenced. 
The  third  group  of  mounds  is  situated  a  few  hundred 
yards  above  the  second,  and  consists  of  about  a 
dozen  eminences.  A  series  extends  along  the  west 
side  of  the  street,  through  grounds  attached  to  a 
classic  edifice  of  brick,  which  occupies  the  principal 
one  ;  while  opposite  rise  several  of  a  larger  size, 
upon  one  of  which  is  situated  the  residence  of  Gen- 
eral Ashley,  and  upon  another  the  reservoir  which 
supplies  the  city  with  water,  raised  from  the  Mis- 
sissippi by  a  steam  force-pump  upon  its  banks. 
Both  are  beautiful  spots,  imbowered  in  forest-trees ; 
and  the  former,  from  its  size  and  structure,  is  sup- 
posed to  have  been  a  citadel  or  place  of  defence. 
L2 


126  THE   FAR   WEST. 

In  excavating  the  earth  of  this  mound,  large  quan- 
tities of  human  remains,  pottery,  half-burned  wood, 
&c.,  &c.,  were  thrown  up;  furnishing  conclusive 
evidence,  were  any  requisite  farther  than  regularity 
of  outline  and  relative  position,  of  the  artificial  ori- 
gin of  these  earth-heaps.  About  six  hundred  yards 
above  this  group,  and  linked  with  it  by  several  in- 
considerable mounds,  is  situated  one  completely  is- 
olated, and  larger  than  any  yet  described.  It  is  up- 
ward of  thirty  feet  in  height,  about  one  hundred 
and  fifty  feet  long,  and  upon  the  summit  five  feet 
wide.  The  form  is  oblong,  resembling  an  immense 
grave  ;  and  a  broad  terrace  or  apron,  after  a  descent 
of  a  few  feet,  spreads  out  itself  on  the  side  looking 
down  upon  the  river.  From  the  extensive  view  of 
the  surrounding  region  and  of  the  Mississippi  com- 
manded by  the  site  of  this  mound,  as  well  as  its  al- 
titude, it  is  supposed  to  have  been  intended  as  a 
vidette  or  watch-tower  by  its  builders.  Upon  its 
summit,  not  many  years  ago,  was  buried  an  Indian 
chief.  He  was  a  member  of  a  deputation  from  a 
distant  tribe  to  the  agency  in  St.  Louis ;  but,  dying 
while  there,  his  remains,  agreeable  to  the  custom  of 
his  tribe,  were  deposited  on  the  most  commanding 
spot  that  could  be  found.  This  custom  accounts 
for  the  circumstance  urged  against  the  antiquity  and 
artificial  origin  of  these  works,  that  the  relics  ex- 
humed are  found  near  the  surface,  and  were  depos- 
ited by  the  present  race.  But  the  distinction  be- 
tween the  remains  found  near  the  surface  and  those 
in  the  depths  of  the  soil  is  too  palpable  and  too 


THE    FAR    WEST.  127 

notorious  to  require  argument.  From  the  Big 
Mound,  as  it  is  called,  a  cordon  of  tumuli  stretch 
away  to  the  northwest  for  several  miles  along  the 
blurts  parallel  with  the  river,  a  noble  view  of  which 
they  command.  They  are  most  of  them  ten  or 
twelve  feet  high ;  many  clothed  with  forest-trees, 
and  all  of  them  supposed  to  be  tombs.  In  remo- 
ving two  of  them  upon  the  grounds  of  Col.  O'Fallon, 
immense  quantities  of  bones  were  exhumed.  Sim- 
ilar mounds  are  to  be  found  in  almost  every  county 
in  the  state,  and  those  in  the  vicinity  of  St.  Louis 
are  remarkable  only  for  their  magnitude  and  the 
regularity  of  their  relative  positions.  It  is  evident, 
from  these  monuments  of  a  former  generation,  that 
the  natural  advantages  of  the  site  upon  which  St. 
Louis  now  stands  were  not  unappreciated  long  be- 
fore it  was  pressed  by  the  first  European  footstep. 

It  is  a  circumstance  which  has  often  elicited  re- 
mark from  those  who,  as  tourists,  have  visited  St. 
Louis,  that  so  little  interest  should  be  manifested 
by  its  citizens  for  those  mysterious  and  venerable 
monuments  of  another  race  by  which  on  every  side 
it  is  environed.  When  we  consider  the  complete 
absence  of  everything  in  the  character  of  a  public 
square  or  promenade  in  the  city,  one  would  suppose 
that  individual  taste  and  municipal  authority  would 
not  have  failed  to  avail  themselves  of  the  moral  in- 
terest attached  to  these  mounds  and  the  beauty  of 
their  site,  to  have  formed  in  their  vicinity  one  of  the 
most  attractive  spots  in  the  West.  These  ancient 
tumuli  could,  at  no  considerable  expense,  have  been 


128  THE    FAR   WEST, 

enclosed  and  ornamented  with  shrubbery,  and  Walks, 
and  flowers,  and  thus  preserved  for  coming  genera- 
tions.    As  it  is,  they  are  passing   rapidly  away; 
man  and  beast,  as  well  as  the  elements,  are  busy 
with  them,  and  in  a  few  years  they  will  quite  have 
disappeared.     The  practical  utility  of  which  they 
are  available  appears  the  only  circumstance  which 
has  attracted  attention  to  them.     One  has  already 
become   a  public  reservoir,  and  measures  are  in 
progress  for  applying  the  larger  mound  to  a  similar 
use,  the  first  being  insufficient  for  the  growth  of  the 
city.     It  need  not  be  said  that  such  indifference  of 
feeling  to  the  only  relics  of  a  by-gone  race  which 
our  land  can  boast,  is  not  well  in  the  citizens  of  St. 
Louis,  and  should  exist  no  longer ;  nor  need  allusion 
be  made  to  that  eagerness  of  interest  which  the  dis- 
tant traveller,  the  man  of  literary  taste  arid  poetic 
fancy,  or  the  devotee  of  abstruse  science,  never  fails 
to  betray  for  these  mysterious  monuments  of  the 
past,  when,  in  his  tour  of  the  Far  West,  he  visits  St. 
Louis ;  many  a  one,  too,  who  has  looked  upon  the 
century-mossed  ruins  of  Europe,  and  to  whose  eye 
the  castled  crags  of  the  Rhine  are  not  unfamiliar. 
And  surely,  to  the  imaginative  mind,  there  is  an  in- 
terest which  attaches  to  these  venerable  beacons  of 
departed  time,  enveloped  as  they  are  in  mystery  in- 
scrutable ;  and  from  their  origin,  pointing,  as  they 
do,  down  the  dim  shadowy  vista  of  ages  of  which 
the  ken  of  man  telleth  not,  there  is  an  interest  which 
hallows  them  even  as  the  hoary  piles  of  old  Egypt 
are  hallowed,  and  which  feudal  Europe,  with  all  her 


f 

( 


THE    FAR    WEST.  129 

time-stained  battlements,  can  never  boast.  It  is  the 
mystery,  the  impenetrable  mystery  veiling  these 
aged  sepulchres,  which  gives  them  an  interest  for 
the  traveller's  eye.  They  are  landmarks  in  the  lapse 
of  ages,  beneath  whose  shadows  generations  have 
mouldered,  and  around  whose  summits  a  gone  eter- 
nity plays !  The  ruined  tower,  the  moss-grown 
abbey,  the  damp-stained  dungeon,  the  sunken  arch, 
the  fairy  and  delicate  fragments  of  the  shattered 
peristyle  of  a  classic  land,  or  the  beautiful  frescoes 
of  Herculaneum  and  Pompeii — around  them  time 
has  indeed  flung  the  silvery  mantle  of  eld  while  he 
has  swept  them  with  decay ;  but  their  years  may  be 
enumerated,  and  the  circumstances,  the  authors,  and 
the  purposes  of  their  origin,  together  with  the  inci- 
dents of  their  ruin,  are  chronicled  on  History's  page 
for  coming  generations.  But  who  shall  tell  the  era 
of  the  origin  of  these  venerable  earth-heaps,  the 
race  of  their  builders,  the  purpose  of  their  erection, 
the  thousand  circumstances  attending  their  rise,  his- 
tory, desertion  ?  Why  now  so  lone  and  desolate  ? 
Where  are  the  multitudes  that  once  swarmed  the 
prairie  at  their  base,  and  vainly  busied  themselves 
in  rearing  piles  which  should  exist  the  wonder  of 
the  men  of  other  lands,  and  the  sole  monument  of 
their  own  memory  long  after  they  themselves  were 
dust?  Has  war,  or  famine,  or  pestilence  brooded 
over  these  beautiful  plains  ?  or  has  the  fiat  of  Om- 
nipotence gone  forth,  that  as  a  race  their  inhabitants 
should  exist  no  longer,  and  the  death-angel  been 
commissioned  to  sweep  them  from  off  the  face  of 


130  THE    FAR    WEST. 

the  earth  as  if  with  destruction's  besom  ?  We  ask : 
the  inquiry  is  vain ;  we  are  answered  not !  Their 
mighty  creations  and  the  tombs  of  myriads  heave  up 
themselves  in  solemn  grandeur  before  us ;  but  from 
the  depths  of  the  dusky  earth-heap  comes  forth  no 
voice  to  tell  us  its  origin,  or  object,  or  story ! 

"  Ye  mouldering  relics  of  a  race  departed, 

Your  names  have  perished  ;  not  a  trace  remains, 
Save  where  the  grassgrown  mound  its  summit  rears 
From  the  green  bosom  of  your  native  plains." 

Ages  since — long  ere  the  first  son  of  the  Old 
World  had  pressed  the  fresh  soil  of  the  New ;  long 
before  the  bright  region  beyond  the  blue  wave  had 
been  the  object  of  the  philosopher's  revery  by  day 
and  the  enthusiast's  vision  by  night — in  the  deep 
stillness  and  solitude  of  an  unpeopled  land,  these 
vast  mausoleums  rose  as  now  they  rise,  in  lonely 
grandeur  from  the  plain,  and  looked  down,  even  as 
now  they  look,  upon  the  giant  flood  rolling  its  dark 
waters  at  their  base,  hurrying  past  them  to  the  deep. 
So  has  it  been  with  the  massive  tombs  of  Egypt, 
amid  the  sands  and  barrenness  of  the  desert.  For 
ages  untold  have  the  gloomy  pyramids  been  reflected 
by  the  inundations  of  the  Nile  ;  an  hundred  genera- 
tions, they  tell  us,  have  arisen  from  the  cradle  and 
reposed  beneath  their  shadows,  and,  like  autumn 
leaves,  have  dropped  into  the  grave ;  but  from  the 
deep  midnight  of  by-gone  centuries  comes  forth  no 
daring  spirit  to  claim  these  kingly  sepulchres  as  hrs 
own!  And  shall  the  dusky  piles  on  the  plains  of 
distant  Egypt  affect  so  deeply  our  reverence  for  the 


THE    FAR    WEST.  131 

departed,  and  these  mighty  monuments,  reposing  in 
dark  sublimity  upon  our  own  magnificent  prairies, 
veiled  in  mystery  more  inscrutable  than  they,  call 
forth  no  solitary  throb?  Is  there  no  hallowing 
interest  associated  with  these  aged  relics,  these 
tombs,  and  temples,  and  towers  of  another  race,  to 
elicit  emotion  ?  Are  they  indeed  to  us  no  more 
than  the  dull  clods  we  tread  upon?  Why,  then, 
does  the  wanderer  from  the  far  land  gaze  upon  them 
with  wonder  and  veneration  ?  Why  linger  fondly 
around  them,  and  meditate  upon  the  power  which 
reared  them  and  is  departed  ?  Why  does  the  poet, 
the  man  of  genius  and  fancy,  or  the  philosopher  of 
mind  and  nature,  seat  himself  at  their  base,  and,  with 
strange  and  undefined  emotions,  pause  and  ponder 
amid  the  loneliness  which  slumbers  around  ?  And 
surely,  if  the  far  traveller,  as  he  wanders  through 
this  Western  Valley,  may  linger  around  these  aged 
piles  and  meditate  upon  a  power  departed,  a  race 
obliterated,  an  influence  swept  from  the  earth  for 
ever,  and  dwell  with  melancholy  emotions  upon 
the  destiny  of  man,  is  it  not  meet  that  those  into 
whose  keeping  they  seem  by  Providence  consigned 
should  regard  them  with  interest  and  emotion  ?  that 
they  should  gather  up  and  preserve  every  incident 
relevant  to  their  origin,  design,  or  history  which  may 
be  attained,  and  avail  themselves  of  every  measure 
which  may  give  to  them  perpetuity,  and  hand  them 
down,  undisturbed  in  form  or  character,  to  other 
generations  ? 

The  most  plausible,  and,  indeed,  the  only  plausi- 
ble argument  urged  by  those  who  deny  the  artificial 


\ 


132  THE   PAR  WEST* 

origin  of  the  ancient  mounds,  is  their  immense  size* 
There  are,  say  they,  "  many  mounds  in  the  West 
that  exactly  correspond  in  shape  with  these  sup- 
posed antiquities,  and  yet,  from  their  size,  most  evi- 
dently were  not  made  by  man  ;"  and  they  add 
that  "  it  would  be  well  to  calculate  upon  the  ordi- 
nary labour  of  excavating  canals,  how  many  hands, 
with  spades,  wheelbarrows,  and  other  necessary  im- 
plements, it  would  take  to  throw  up  mounds  like  the 
largest  of  these  within  any  given  time."*  We  are 
told  that  in  the  territory  of  Wisconsin  and  in  north- 
ern Illinois  exist  mounds  to  which  these  are  mole- 
hills. Of  those,  Mount  Joliet,  Mount  Charles, 
Sinsinewa,  and  the  Blue  Mounds  vary  from  one  to 
four  hundred  feet  in  height ;  while  west  of  the  Ar- 
kansas exists  a  range  of  earth-heaps  ten  or  twelve 
miles  in  extent,  and  two  hundred  feet  high :  there 
also,  it  might  be  added,  are  the  Mamelle  Mount- 
ains, estimated  at  one  thousand  feet.  The  adjacent 
country  is  prairie ;  farms  exist  on  the  summits  of  the 
mounds,  which  from  their  declivity  are  almost  in- 
accessible, and  springs  gush  out  from  their  sides. 
With  but  one  exception,  I  profess  to  know  nothing 
of  these  mounds  from  personal  observation ;  and, 
consequently,  can  hazard  no  opinion  of  their  char- 
acter. The  fact  of  the  "  gushing  springs,"  it  is  true, 

*  This  quotation  is  from  the  pen  of  an  exceedingly  accurate 
writer  upon  the  West,  and  a  worthy  man  ;  so  far  its  sentiment  is 
deserving  of  regard.  I  have  canvassed  the  topic  personally  with 
this  gentleman,  and  upon  other  subjects  have  frequently  availed 
myself  of  a  superior  information,  which  more  than  twenty  years  of 
residence  in  the  Far  West  has  enahled  him  to  obtain.  I  refer  to 
the  Rev.  J.  M.  Peck,  author  of  "  Guide  for  Emigrants,"  &c. 


t. 


THE    PAR   WEST.  133 

savours  not  much  of  artificialness  ;  and  in  this  re- 
spect, at  least,  do  these  mounds  differ  from  those 
claimed  as  of  artificial  origin.  The  earth-heaps  of 
which  I  have  been  speaking  can  boast  no  "  springs 
of  water  gushing  from  their  sides ;"  if  they  could, 
the  fact  would  be  far  from  corroborating  the  theory 
maintained.  The  analogy  between  these  mounds  is 
admitted  to  be  strong,  though  there  exist  diversities ; 
and  were  there  none,  even  Bishop  Butler  says  that 
we  are  not  to  infer  a  thing  true  upon  slight  presump- 
tion, since  "  there  may  be  probabilities  on  both  sides 
of  a  question."  From  what  has  been  advanced  rel- 
ative to  the  character  of  the  mounds  spoken  of,  it  is 
believed  that  the  probabilities  strongly  preponderate 
in  favour  of  their  artificial  origin,  even  admitting 
their  perfect  analogy  to  those  "  from  whose  sides 
gush  the  springs."  But  more  anon. 
St.  Louis. 


VOL.  I.—M        x 


134  THE    FAR  WEST. 


XII. 

"  There,  through  the  long-drawn  aisle  and  fretted  vault, 
The  pealing  anthem  swells  the  note  of  praise." 

GKAY, 

"  Some  men  have  been 

Who  loved  the  church  so  well,  and  gave  so  largely  to't, 
They  thought  it  should  have  canopied  their  bones 
Till  doomsday." 

THERE  are  few  more  delightful  views  in  the  vi- 
cinity of  St.  Louis  of  a  fine  evening  than  that  com- 
manded by  the  summit  of  the  "Big  Mound,"  of 
which  I  have  spoken,  in  the  northern  suburbs  of  the 
city.  Far  away  from  the  north  comes  the  Mississip- 
pi, sweeping  on  in  a  broad,  smooth  sheet,  skirted 
by  woodlands ;  and  the  rushing  of  its  waters  along 
the  ragged  rocks  of  the  shores  below  is  fancied 
faintly  to  reach  the  ear.  Nearly  in  the  middle  of 
the  stream  are  stretched  out  the  long,  low,  sandy 
shores  of  "  Blood  Island,"  a  spot  notorious  in  the 
annals  of  duelling.  Upon  the  Illinois  shore  beyond 
it  is  contemplated  erecting  a  pier,  for  the  purpose 
of  throwing  the  full  volume  of  the  current  upon  the 
western  shore,  and  thus  preserving  a  channel  of 
deep  water  along  the  landing  of  the  city.  Within 
a  few  years  past  an  extensive  sand-bar  has  accumu- 
lated opposite  the  southern  section  of  the  city,  which 
threatens,  unless  removed,  greatly  to  obstruct,  if  not 
to  destroy,  the  harbour.  To  remedy  this,  an  appro- 


THE    FAR    WEST.  135 

priation  has  been  made  by  Congress,  surveys  have 
been  taken,  measures  devised  and  their  execution 
commenced.  Upon  the  river-bank  opposite  the  isl- 
and stands  the  "  Floating  Dry  Dock,"  an  ingenious 
contrivance,  the  invention  of  a  gentleman  of  St. 
Louis,  and  owned  by  a  company  of  patentees.  It 
consists  of  an  indefinite  number  of  floats,  which  may 
be  increased  or  diminished  at  pleasure,  each  of 
them  fourteen  feet  in  breadth,  and  about  four  times 
that  length,  connected  laterally  together.  After  be- 
ing sunk  and  suspended  at  the  necessary  depth  in  the 
water,  the  boat  to  be  repaired  is  placed  upon  them, 
and  they  rise  till  her  hull  is  completely  expose.d 

As  the  spectator,  standing  upon  the  Mound,  turns 
his  eye  to  the  south,  a  green  grove  lies  before  him. 
and  the  smaller  earth-heaps,  over  which  are  beheld 
the  towers  and  roofs  of  the  city  rising  in  the  dis- 
tance ;  far  beyond  is  spread  out  a  smooth,  rolling 
carpet  of  tree-tops,  in  the  midst  of  which  the  gray 
limestone  of  the  arsenal  is  dimly  perceived.  The 
extent  between  the  northern  suburbs  of  St.  Louis 
and  its  southern  extremity  along  the  river  curve  is 
about  six  miles,  and  the  city  can  be  profitably  extend- 
ed about  the  same  distance  into  the  interior.  The 
prospect  in  this  direction  is  boundless  for  miles 
around,  till  the  tree-tops  blend  with  the  western 
horizon.  The  face  of  the  country  is  neither  uni- 
form nor  broken,  but  undulates  almost  impercepti- 
bly away,  clothed  in  a  dense  forest  of  black-jack 
oak,  interspersed  with  thickets  of  the  wild-plum,  the 
crab-apple,  and  the  hazel.  Thirty  years  ago,  and 
this  broad  plain  was  a  treeless,  shrubless  waste, 


136  THE    FAR    WEST. 

without  a  solitary  farmhouse  to  break  the  monotony, 
But  the  annual  fires  were  stopped ;  a  young  forest 
sprang  into  existence ;  and  delightful  villas  and  coun- 
try seats  are  now  gleaming  from  the  dark  foliage  in 
all  directions.  To  some  of  them  are  attached  ex- 
tensive grounds,  adorned  with  groves,  orchards,  fish- 
ponds, and  all  the  elegances  of  opulence  and  cul- 
tivated taste ;  while  in  the  distance  are  beheld  the 
glittering  spires  of  the  city  rising  above  the  trees. 
At  one  of  these,  a  retired,  beautiful  spot,  residence 

of  Dr.  F ,  I  have  passed  many  a  pleasant  hour. 

The  sportsman  may  here  be  indulged  to  his  heart's 
desire.  The  woods  abound  with  game  of  every 
species  :  the  rabbit,  quail,  prairie-hen,  wild-turkey, 
and  the  deer ;  while  the  lakes,  which  flash  from 
every  dell  and  dingle,  are  swarmed  with  fish.  Most 
of  these  sheets  of  water  are  formed  by  immense 
springs  issuing  from  sink-holes ;  and  are  supposed, 
like  those  in  Florida,  which  suggested  the  wild  idea 
of  the  fountain  of  rejuvenescence,  to  owe  their  ori- 
gin to  the  subsidence  of  the  bed  of  porous  limestone 
upon  which  the  Western  Valley  is  based.  Many 
of  these  springs  intersect  the  region  with  rills  and 
rivulets,  and  assist  in  forming  a  beautiful  sheet  of 
water  in  the  southern  suburbs  of  the  city,  which 
eventually  pours  out  its  waters  into  the  Mississippi, 
Many  years  4go  a  dam  and  massive  mill  of  stone 
was  erected  here  by  one  of  the  founders  of  the  city ; 
it  is  yet  standing,  surrounded  by  aged  sycamores, 
and  is  more  valuable  and  venerable  than  ever.  The 
neighbouring  region  is  abrupt  and  broken,  varied  by 
a  delightful  vicissitude  of  hill  and  dale.  The  bor- 


THE    FAR   WEST.  137 

ders  of  the  lake  are  fringed  with  groves,  while  the 
steep  bluffs,  which  rise  along  the  water  and  are  re- 
flected in  its  placid  bosom,  recall  the  picture  of  Ben 
Venue  and  Loch  Katrine  : 

"  The  mountain  shadows  on  her  breast 
Were  neither  broken  nor  at  rest ; 
In  bright  uncertainty  they  lie, 
Like  future  joys  to  Fancy's  eye." 

This  beautiful  lake  and  its  vicinity  is,  indeed,  un- 
surpassed for  scenic  loveliness  by  any  spot  in  the 
suburbs  of  St.  Louis.  At  the  calm,  holy  hour  of 
Sabbath  sunset,  its  quiet  borders  invite  to  meditation 
and  retirement.  The  spot  should  be  consecrated  as 
the  trysting-place  of  love  and  friendship.  Some 
fine  structures  are  rising  upon  the  margin  of  the 
waters,  and  in  a  few  years  it  will  be  rivalled  in 
beauty  by  no  other  section  of  the  city. 

St.  Louis,  like  most  Western  cities,  can  boast 
but  few  public  edifices  of  any  note.  Among  those 
which  are  to  be  seen,  however,  are  the  large  and 
commodious  places  of  worship  of  the  different  re- 
ligious denominations;  an  elegant  courthouse,  oc- 
cupying with  its  enclosed  grounds  one  of  the  finest 
squares  in  the  city;  two  market-houses,  one  of  which, 
standing  upon  the  river-bank,  contains  on  its  second 
floor  the  City  Hall ;  a  large  and  splendid  theatre,  in 
most  particulars  inferior  to  no  other  edifice  of  the 
kind  in  the  United  States  ;  and  an  extensive  hotel, 
which  is  now  going  up,  to  be  called  the  "  St.  Louis 
House,"  contracted  for  one  hundred  and  twenty 
thousand  dollars.  The  Cathedral  of  St.  Luke,  the 
University,  Hospital,  Orphan  Asylum,  and  the 
M  2 


138  THE    FAR   WEST, 

"  Convent  of  the  Sacred  Heart,"  are  Catholic  Insti- 
tutions, and  well  worthy  of  remark.  For  many 
years  after  its  settlement,  the  Roman  Catholic  faith 
prevailed  exclusively  in  St.  Louis.  The  founders 
of  the  city  and  its  earliest  inhabitants  were  of  this 
religious  persuasion  ;  and  their  descendants,  many 
of  whom  are  now  among  its  most  opulent  and  influ- 
ential citizens,  together  with  foreign  immigrants  of  a 
recent  date,  form  a  numerous  and  respectable  body. 
The  names  of  Chouteau,  Pratle,  Sarpy,  Cabanne, 
Menard,  Soulard,  &c.,  &c.,  are  those  of  early  settlers 
of  the  city  which  yet  are  often  heard. 

The  "  Cathedral  of  St.  Luke"  is  a  noble  structure 
of  stone.  It  was  consecrated  with  great  pomp  in 
the  autumn  of  '34,  having  occupied  three  years  in 
its  erection.  The  site  is  unfavourable,  but  it  pos- 
sessed an  interest  for  many  of  the  old  citizens  which 
no  other  spot  could  claim.  Here  had  stood  their 
ancient  sanctuary,  with  which  was  associated  the 
holy  feelings  of  their  earliest  days  \  here  had  been 
the  baptismal  font  and  the  marriage  altar ;  while 
beneath  reposed  the  sacred  remains  of  many  a  being, 
loved  and  honoured,  but  passed  away.  The  former 
church  was  a  rude  structure  of  logs.  The  dimen- 
sions of  the  present  building  are  a  length  of  about 
one  hundred  and  forty  feet,  to  a  breadth  of  eighty 
and  an  altitude  of  forty,  with  a  tower  of  upward  of 
an  hundred  feet,  surmounted  by  a  lofty  cross.  The 
steeple  contains  a  peal  of  six  bells,  the  three  larger 
of  which  were  cast  in  Normandy,  and  chime  very 
pleasantly  ;  upon  the  four  sides  of  the  tower  are  the 
dial-plates  of  a  clock,  which  strikes  the  hours  upon 


f 


THE    FAR    WEST.  139 

the  bells.  The  porch  of  the  edifice  consists  of  four 
large  columns  of  polished  freestone,  of  the  Doric 
order,  with  corresponding  entablature,  cornice,  pedi- 
ment, and  frieze,  the  whole  surface  of  the  latter 
being  occupied  with  the  inscription  "In  honorem 
S.  Ludovici.  Deo  Uni  et  Trino,  Dicatum,  A.D. 
MDCCCXXXIV,"  the  letters  elevated  in  basso-re- 
lievo. Over  the  entrances,  which  are  three  in  num- 
ber, are  inscribed,  in  French  and  in  English,  pas- 
sages from  Scripture,  upon  tablets  of  Italian  marble. 
The  porch  is  protected  from  the  street  by  battle- 
ments, surmounted  by  an  iron  railing,  and  adorned 
by  lofty  candelabra  of  stone.  The  body  of  the 
building  is  divided  by  two  colonnades,  of  five  pillars 
each,  into  three  aisles.  The  columns,  composed  of 
brick,  stuccoed  to  imitate  marble,  are  of  the  Doric 
order,  supporting  a  cornice  and  entablature,  decora- 
ted with  arabesques  and  medallions  ;  and  upon  them 
reposes  the  arch  of  the  elliptic-formed  and  panelled 
ceiling.  Between  the  columns  are  suspended  eight 
splendid  chandeliers,  which,  when  lighted  at  night, 
produce  a  magnificent  effect.  The  walls  are  en- 
riched by  frescoes  and  arabesques,  and  the  windows 
are  embellished  with  transparencies,  presenting  the 
principal  transactions  of  the  Saviour's  mission. 
This  is  said  to  be  one  of  the  first  attempts  at  a  sub- 
stitute for  the  painted  glass  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and 
was  executed,  together  with  the  other  pictorial  dec- 
orations of  the  edifice,  by  an  artist  named  Leon, 
sent  over  for  the  purpose  from  France.  The  effect 
is  grand.  Even  the  gairish  sunbeams  are  mellowed 
down  as  they  struggle  dimly  through  the  richly-col- 


140  THE    FAR   WEST. 

cured  hangings,  and  the  light  throughout  the  sacred 
pile  seems  tinged  with  rainbow  hues.  In  the  chan- 
cel of  the  church,  at  the  bottom  of  the  centre  aisle, 
elevated  by  a  flight  of  steps,  and  enclosed  by  a  bal- 
ustrade of  the  Corinthian  order,  is  situated  the  sanc- 
tuary. Upon  either  side  stand  pilasters  to  represent 
marble,  decorated  with  festoons  of  wheat-ears  and 
vines,  symbolical  of  the  eucharist,  and  surmounted 
with  caps  of  the  Doric  order.  On  the  right,  between 
the  pilasters,  is  a  gallery  for  the  choir,  with  the  or- 
gan in  the  rear,  and  on  the  left  side  is  a  veiled  gal- 
lery for  the  "  Sisters  of  Charity"  connected  with  the 
convent  and  the  other  institutions  of  the  church. 
The  altar-piece  at  the  bottom  of  the  sanctuary  rep- 
resents the  Saviour  upon  the  cross,  with  his  mother 
and  two  of  his  disciples  at  his  feet ;  on  either  side 
rise  two  fluted  Corinthian  columns,  with  a  broken 
pediment  and  gilded  caps,  supporting  a  gorgeous 
entablature.  Above  the  whole  is  an  elliptical  win- 
dow, hung  with  the  transparency  of  a  dove,  emble- 
matic of  the  Holy  Ghost,  shedding  abroad  rays  of 
light.  The  high  altar  and  the  tabernacle  stand  be- 
low, and  the  decorations  on  festal  occasions,  as  well 
as  the  vestments  of  the  officiating  priests,  are  splen- 
did and  imposing.  Over  the  bishop's  seat,  in  a  side 
arch  of  the  sanctuary,  hangs  a  beautiful  painting  of 
St.  Louis,  titular  of  the  cathedral,  presented  by  the 
amiable  Louis  XVIII.  of  France  previous  to  his 
exile.  At  the  bottom  of  each  of  the  side  aisles  of 
the  church  stand  two  chapels,  at  the  same  elevation 
with  the  sanctuary.  Between  two  fluted  columns 
of  the  Ionic  order  is  suspended,  in  each  chapel,  an 


THE    FAR    WEST.  141 

altar-piece,  with  a  valuable  painting  above.  The 
piece  on  the  left  represents  St.  Vincent  of  Gaul  en- 
gaged in  chanty  on  a  winter's  day,  and  the  picture 
above  is  the  marriage  of  the  blessed  Virgin.  The 
altar-piece  of  the  right  represents  St.  Patrick  of  Ire- 
land in  his  pontifical  robes,  and  above  is  a  painting 
of  our  Saviour  and  the  centurion,  said  to  be  by 
Paul  Veronese.  At  the  opposite  extremity  of  the 
building,  near  the  side  entrances,  are  two  valuable 
pieces  ;  one  said  to  be  by  Rubens,  of  the  Virgin 
and  Child,  the  other  the  martyrdom  of  St.  Bartholo- 
mew. Above  rise  extensive  galleries  in  three  rows  ; 
to  the  right  is  the  baptismal  font,  and  a  landscape 
of  the  Saviour's  immersion  in  Jordan.  Beneath  the 
sanctuary  of  the  church  is  the  lower  chapel,  divided 
into  three  aisles  by  as  many  arches,  supported  by 
pilasters,  which,  as  well  as  the  walls,  are  painted  to 
imitate  marble.  There  is  here  an  altar  and  a  mar- 
ble tabernacle,  where  mass  is  performed  during  the 
week,  and  the  chapel  is  decorated  by  fourteen  paint- 
ings, representing  different  stages  of  the  Saviour's 
passion.* 

In  the  western  suburbs  of  the  city,  upon  an  emi- 
nence, stand  the  buildings  of  the  St.  Louis  Univer- 
sity, handsome  structures  of  brick.  The  institution 
is  conducted  by  Jesuits,  and  most  of  the  higher 
branches  of  learning  are  taught.  The  present  site 
has  been  offered  for  sale,  and  the  seminary  is  to  be 
removed  some  miles  into  the  interior.  Connected 

*  In  this  outline  of  the  Cathedral  the  author  is  indebted  largely 
to  a  minute  description  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Lutz,  the  officiating  priest, 
published  in  the  Missouri  Gazetteer. 

.  >  •» " 

1 


142  THE    FAR   WEST. 

with  the  college  is  a  medical  school  of  recent  date. 
The  chapel  of  the  institution  is  a  large,  airy  room, 
hung  with  antique  and  valuable  paintings.  Two 
of  these,  suspended  on  each  side  of  the  altar,  said  to 
be  by  Rubens,  are  master-pieces  of  the  art.  One  of 
them  represents  Ignatius  Loyola,  founder  of  the 
order  of  Jesuits ;  the  other  is  the  full-length  picture 
of  the  celebrated  Francis  Xavier,  apostle  to  the  In- 
dies, who  died  at  Goa  while  engaged  in  his  benev- 
olent labours.  In  an  oratory  above  hangs  a  large 
painting  by  the  same  master ;  a  powerful,  though 
unfinished  production.  All  the  galleries  of  the 
buildings  are  decorated  with  paintings,  some  of 
which  have  but  little  to  commend  them  to  notice 
but  their  antiquity.  The  library  embraces  about 
twelve  hundred  volumes,  mostly  in  the  French  lan- 
guage. The  Universal  Geography  of  Braviara,  a 
valuable  work  of  eleven  folios,  brilliantly  illumina- 
ted, and  the  Acta  Sanctorum,  an  enormous  work 
of  forty-two  folio  volumes,  chiefly  attract  the  visit- 
er's  attention.  The  philosophical  apparatus  attached 
to  the  institution  is  very  insufficient.  Most  of  the 
pupils  of  the  institution  are  French,  and  they  are 
gathered  from  all  quarters  of  the  South  and  West ; 
a  great  number  of  them  are  from  Louisiana,  sons 
of  the  planters. 
St.  Louis. 


THE    FAR   WEST,  143 


XIII. 

11  Away  !  away  !  and  on  we  dash  ! 
Torrents  less  rapid  and  less  rash." 

Mazeppa. 

"  Mark  yon  old  mansion  frowning  through  the  trees, 
Whose  hollow  turret  woos  the  whistling  breeze." 

ROGERS. 

IT  was  a  pleasant  afternoon  when,  in  company 
with  a  number  of  friends,  I  left  the  city  for  an  ex- 
cursion into  its  southern  suburbs,  and  a  visit  to  the 
military  works,  a  few  miles  distant.  The  atmo- 
sphere had  that  mild,  mellowy  mistiness  which  sub- 
dues the  fierce  glare  of  the  sunbeams,  and  flings  over 
every  object  a  softened  shade.  A  gentle  breeze 
from  the  south  was  astir  balmily  and  blandly  among 
the  leaves ;  in  fine,  it  was  one  of  those  grateful, 
genial  seasons,  when  the  senses  sympathize  with 
the  quietude  of  external  creation,  and  there  is  no 
reason,  earthly  or  unearthly,  why  the  inward  man 
should  not  sympathize  with  the  man  without ;  a  sea- 
son when  you  are  at  peace  with  yourself,  and  at 
peace  with  every  object,  animate,  inanimate,  or  veg- 
etable, about  you.  Our  party  consisted  of  eight 
precious  souls,  and  "  all  agog  to  dash  through  thick 
and  thin,"  if  essential  to  a  jovial  jaunt.  And  now 
fain  would  I  enumerate  those  worthy  individuals,  to- 
gether with  their  several  peculiarities  and  disposi- 
tions, good  and  bad,  did  not  a  certain  delicacy  for- 


144  THE    FAR   WEST. 

bid.  Suffice  it  to  say,  the  excursion  was  devised  in 
honour,  and  for  the  especial  benefit,  of  a  young  and  re- 
cently-married couple  from  "  the  city  of  monuments 
and  fountains,"  who  were  enjoying  their  honey-moon 
in  a  trip  to  the  Far  West.  Passing  through  the 
narrow  streets  and  among  the  ancient  edifices  of  the 
old  city,  we  came  to  that  section  called  South  St. 
Louis.  This  is  destined  to  become  the  district  of 
manufactures ;  large  quantities  of  bituminous  coal, 
little  inferior  to  that  of  the  Alleghanies,  is  here 
found ;  and  railroads  to  the  celebrated  Iron  Mount- 
ain, sixty  miles  distant,  and  to  the  coal-banks  of  the 
Illinois  bluffs,  as  well  as  to  the  northern  section  of 
the  city,  are  projected.  The  landing  is  good,  the 
shore  being  composed  of  limestone  and  marble,  of 
two  different  species,  both  of  which  admit  a  high 
degree  of  polish.  There  is  also  quarried  in  this 
vicinity  a  kind  of  freestone,  which,  when  fresh  from 
the  bed,  is  soft,  but,  on  exposure  to  the  atmosphere, 
becomes  dense  and  hard.  We  passed  a  number  of 
commodious  farmhouses  as  we  ambled  along ;  and 
now  and  then,  at  intervals  through  the  trees,  was 
caught  a  glimpse  of  the  flashing  sheen  of  the  river 
gliding  along  upon  our  left.  At  a  short  distance 
from  the  road  were  to  be  seen  the  ruins  of  the 
"  Eagle  Powder-works,"  destroyed  by  fire  in  the 
spring  of  '36.  They  had  been  in  operation  only 
three  years  previous  to  their  explosion,  and  their 
daily  manufacture  was  three  hundred  pounds  of  su- 
perior powder.  The  report  and  concussion  of  the 
explosion  was  perceived  miles  around  the  country, 
and  the  loss  sustained  by  the  proprietors  was  esti- 


THE   PAR  WEST.  145 

mated  at  forty  thousand  dollars.  The  site  of  these 
works  was  a  broad  plain,  over  which,  as  our  horses 
were  briskly  galloping,  a  circumstance  occurred 
which  could  boast  quite  as  much  of  reality  as  ro- 
mance. 

To  my  own  especial  gallantry— gallant  man — had 
been  intrusted  the  precious  person  of  the  fair  bride, 
and  lightly  and  gracefully  pressed  her  fairy  form 
upon  the  back  of  a  bright-eyed,  lithe  little  animal, 
with  a  spirit  buoyant  as  her  own.  The  steed  upon 
which  I  was  myself  mounted  was  a  powerful  crea- 
ture, with  a  mouth  as  unyielding  as  the  steel  bit  he 
was  constantly  champing.  The  lady  prided  herself, 
not  without  reason,  upon  her  boldness  and  grace  in 
horsemanship  and  her  skill  in  the  manege;  and,  as 
we  rode  somewhat  in  advance  of  our  cavalcade,  the 
proposal  thoughtlessly  dropped  from  her  that  we 
should  elope  and  leave  our  companions  in  the  lurch. 
Hardly  had  the  syllables  left  her  lip,  than  the  reins 
were  flung  loose  upon  the  horses'  manes ;  they 
bounded  on,  and  away,  away,  away  the  next  mo- 
ment were  we  skirring  over  the  plain,  like  the  steed 
of  the  Muses  on  a  steeple-chase.  A  single  shout 
of  warning  to  my  fair  .companion  was  returned 
by  an  ejaculation  of  terror,  for  her  horse  had  be- 
come his  own  master.  The  race  of  John  Gilpin  or 
of  Alderman  Purdy  were,  either  or  both  of  them, 
mere  circumstances  to  ours.  For  more  than  a  mile 
our  excited  steeds  swept  onward  in  their  furious 
course  to  the  admiration  of  beholders  ;  and  how  long 
the  race  might  have  been  protracted  is  impossible 
to  say,  had  not  certain  sons  of  Erin — worthy  souls 

VOL.  I.— N 


146  THE    FAR    WEST. 

— in  the  innocence  of  their  hearts  and  the  ignorance 
of  their  heads,  and  by  way  of  perpetrating  a  notable 
exploit,  thought  proper  to  throw  themselves  from 
the  roadside  directly  before  us.  The  suddenness 
of  the  movement  brought  both  our  animals  nearly 
upon  their  haunches,  and  the  next  minute  saw  the 
fair  bride  quietly  seated  in  the  dust  beneath  their 
feet.  The  shock  had  flung  her  from  her  seat,  but 
she  arose  uninjured.  To  leap  from  my  saddle  and 
place  the  lady  again  in  hers  was  the  work  of  a  mo- 
ment ;  and  when  the  cortege  made  its  appearance, 
our  runaway  steeds  were  ambling  along  in  a  fashion 
the  most  discreet  and  exemplary  imaginable. 

The  situation  of  the  Arsenal,  upon  a  swelling 
bank  of  the  river,  is  delightful.  It  is  surrounded 
by  a  strong  wall  of  stone,  embracing  extensive 
grounds,  through  which  a  green,  shady  avenue  leads 
from  the  highway.  The  structures  are  composed 
chiefly  of  unhewn  limestone,  enclosing  a  rectangu- 
lar area,  and  comprise  about  a  dozen  large  build- 
ings, while  a  number  of  lesser  ones  are  perceived 
here  and  there  among  the  groves.  The  principal 
structure  is  one  of  four  stories,  looking  down  upon 
the  Mississippi,  with  a  beautiful  esplanade,  forming 
a  kind  of  natural  glacis  to  the  whole  armory,  sweep- 
ing away  to  the  water.  Upon  the  right  and  left,  in 
the  same  line  with  the  rectangle,  are  situated  the 
dwellings  of  the  officers ;  noble  edifices  of  hewn 
stone,  with  cultivated  garden-plats  and  fruit-trees. 
The  view  of  the  stream  is  here  delightful,  and  the 
breeze  came  up  from  its  surface  fresh  and  free.  A 
pair  of  pet  deer  were  frolickisg  along  the  shore. 
Most  of  the  remaining  structures  are  offices  and 


THE    FAR   WEST.  147 

workshops  devoted  to  the  manufacture  of  arms. 
Of  these  there  were  but  few  in  the  Arsenal,  large 
quantities  having  been  despatched  to  the  South  for 
the  Florida  war.  It  is  designed,  I  am  informed,  to 
mount  ordnance  at  these  works — to  no  great  extent, 
probably ;  there  were  several  pieces  of  artillery  al- 
ready prepared.  The  slits  and  loopholes  in  the 
deep  walls,  the  pyramids  of  balls  and  bombshells, 
and  the  heavy  carronades  piled  in  tiers,  give  the 
place  rather  a  warlike  aspect  for  a  peaceable  inland 
fortress. 

A  ride  of  a  few  miles  brought  us  to  the  brow  of  a 
considerable  elevation,  from  which  we  looked  down 
upon  the  venerable  little  hamlet  of  Carondelet,  or 
Vuide  Poche,  as  it  is  familiarly  termed ;  a  nom  de 
nique  truly  indicative  of  the  poverty  of  pocket  and 
the  richness  of  fancy  of  its  primitive  habitans.  The 
village  lies  in  a  sleepy-looking  hollow,  scooped  out 
between  the  bluffs  and  the  water;  and  from  the 
summit  of  the  hill  the  eye  glances  beyond  it  over  the 
lengthened  vista  of  the  river-reach,  at  this  place 
miles  in  extent  Along  the  shore  a  deeply-laden 
steamer  was  toiling  against  the  current  on  her  pas- 
sage to  the  city.  Descending  the  elevation,  we 
were  soon  thridding  the  narrow,  tortuous,  lane-like 
avenues  of  the  old  village.  Every  object,  the  very 
soil  even,  seemed  mossgrown  and  hoary  with  time 
departed.  More  than  seventy  years  have  passed 
away  since  its  settlement  commenced ;  and  now, 
as  then,  its  inhabitants  consist  of  hunters,  and  trap- 
pers, and  river-boatmen,  absent  most  of  the  year  on 
their  various  excursions.  The  rude,  crumbling  ten- 


148  THE    PAR  WEST. 

ements  of  stone  or  timber,  of  peculiar  structure, 
with  their  whitewashed  walls  stained  by  age  ;  the 
stoccade  enclosures  of  the  gardens ;  the  venerable 
aspect  of  the  ancient  fruit-trees,  mossed  with  years, 
and  the  unique  and  singular  garb,  manner,  and  ap- 
pearance of  the  swarthy  villagers,  all  betoken  an 
earlier  era  and  a  peculiar  people.  The  little  dark- 
eyed,  dark-haired  boys  were  busy  with  their  games 
in  the  streets ;  and,  as  we  paced  leisurely  along, 
we  could  perceive  in  the  little  cabarets  the  older 
portion  of  the  habitans,  cosily  congregated  around 
the  table  near  the  open  door  or  upon  the  balcony, 
apparently  discussing  the  gossip  of  the  day  and  the 
qualities  of  sundry  potations  before  them.  Ascend- 
ing the  hill  in  the  rear  of  the  village,  we  entered  the 
rude  chapel  of  stone  reared  upon  its  brow :  the  in- 
habitants are  all  Catholics,  and  to  this  faith  is  the 
edifice  consecrated.  The  altar-piece,  with  its  dec- 
orations, was  characterized  by  simplicity  and  taste. 
Three  ancient  paintings,  representing  scenes  in  the 
mission  of  the  Saviour,  were  suspended  from  the 
walls ;  the  brass-plated  missal  reposed  upon  the 
tabernacle ;  the  crucifix  rose  in  the  centre  of  the 
sanctuary,  and  candles  were  planted  on  either  side. 
Evergreens  were  neatly  festooned  around  the  sanc- 
tuary, and  every  object  betrayed  a  degree  of  taste. 
Attached  to  the  church  is  a  small  burial-ground, 
crowded  with  tenants.  The  Sisters  of  Charity 
have  an  asylum  for  the  Deaf  and  Dumb,  in  a  pros- 
perous condition.  Our  tarry  was  but  a  brief  one> 
as  the  distrust  with  which  our  movements  were 
regarded  by  the  villagers  was  evident;  nor  is  this 


THE    FAR    WEST.  149 

suspicion  at  all  to  be  wondered  at  when  we  consider 
the  numberless  impostures  of  which,  by  immigrants, 
they  have  been  made  the  victims. 

A  few  miles  through  groves  of  oaks  brought  us 
in  view  of  that  beautiful  spot,  Jefferson  Barracks. 
The  buildings,  constructed  of  stone,  are  romanti- 
cally situated  on  a  bold  bluff,  the  base  of  which  is 
swept  by  the  Mississippi,  and  were  intended  to  gar- 
rison an  entire  regiment  of  cavalry  for  frontier  ser- 
vice. Three  sides  of  the  quadrangle  of  the  parade 
are  bounded  by  the  lines  of  galleried  barracks,  with 
fine  buildings  at  the  extremities  for  the  residence 
of  the  officers ;  while  the  fourth  opens  upon  a  noble 
terrace  overlooking  the  river.  The  commissary's 
house,  the  magazines,  and  extensive  stables,  lie  with- 
out the  parallelogram,  beneath  the  lofty  trees.  From 
the  terrace  is  commanded  a  fine  view  of  the  river, 
with  its  alluvial  islands,  the  extensive  woodlands 
upon  the  opposite  side,  and  the  pale  cliffs  of  the 
bluffs  stretching  away  beyond  the  bottom.  In  the 
rear  of  the  garrison  rises  a  grove  of  forest-trees, 
consisting  of  heavy  oaks,  with  broad-spreading 
branches,  and  a  green,  smooth  sward  beneath.  The 
surface  is  beautifully  undulating,  and  the  spot  pre- 
sents a  specimen  of  park  scenery  as  perfect  as  the 
Country  can  boast.  A  neat  burial-ground  is  located 
in  this  wood,  and  the  number  of  its  white  wooden 
slabs  gave  melancholy  evidence  of  the  ravages  of  the 
Cholera  among  that  corps  of  fine  fellows  which,  four 
years  before,  garrisoned  the  Barracks.  Many  a  one 
has  here  laid  away  his  bones  to  rest  far  from  the 
home  of  his  nativity.  There  is  another  cemetery 


150  THE    FAR    WEST. 

on  the  southern  outskirts  of  the  Barracks,  where 
are  the  tombs  of  several  officers  of  the  army. 

The  site  of  Jefferson  Barracks  was  selected  by 
General  Atkinson  as  the  station  of  a  corps  de  re- 
serve, for  defence  of  the  Southern,  Western,  and 
Northern  frontiers.  For  the  purpose  of  its  design, 
experience  has  tested  its  efficiency.  The  line  of 
frontier,  including  the  advanced  post  of  Council 
Bluffs  on  the  Missouri,  describes  the  arch  of  a  cir- 
cle, the  chord  of  which  passes  nearly  through  this 
point ;  and  a  reserve  post  here  is  consequently 
available  for  the  entire  line  of  frontier.  From  its 
central  position  and  its  proximity  to  the  mouths  of 
the  great  rivers  leading  into  the  interior,  detach- 
ments, by  means  of  steam  transports,  may  be 
thrown  with  great  rapidity  and  nearly  equal  facil- 
ity into  the  garrisons  upon  the  Upper  Mississippi, 
the  Missouri,  the  Arkansas,  Red,  or  Sabine  Rivers. 
This  was  tested  in  the  Black  Hawk  war,  and,  in- 
deed, in  every  inroad  of  the  Indian  tribes,  these 
troops  have  first  been  summoned  to  the  field. 
When  disengaged,  the  spot  furnishes  a  salubrious 
position  for  the  reserve  of  the  Western  army.  By 
the  latest  scheme  of  frontier  defence,  a  garrison  of 
fifteen  hundred  troops  is  deemed  necessary  for  this 
cantonment. 

A  few  miles  below  the  Barracks,  along  the  river- 
bank,  is  situated  quite  a  remarkable  cave.  I  visited 
and  explored  it  one  fine  afternoon,  with  a  number 
of  friends.  With  some  difficulty,  after  repeated 
inquiry,  we  succeeded  in  discovering  the  object  of 
our  search,  and  from  a  neighbouring  farmhouse 


THE    FAR   WEST.  151 

furnished  ourselves  with  lights  and  a  guide.  The 
latter  was  a  German,  who,  according  to  his  own 
account,  had  been  something  of  a  hero  in  his  way 
and  day ;  he  was  with  Napoleon  at  Moscow,  and 
was  subsequently  taken  prisoner  by  Blucher's  Prus- 
sian Lancers  at  Waterloo,  having  been  wounded 
in  the  knee  by  a  musket-ball.  To  our  edification 
he  detailed  a  number  of  his  "  moving  accidents  by 
flood  and  field."  A  few  steps  from  the  farmhouse 
brought  us  to  the  mouth  of  the  cavern,  situated  in 
the  face  of  a  ragged  limestone  precipice  nearly  a 
hundred  feet  high,  and  the  summit  crowned  with 
trees  and  shrubbery  ;  it  forms  the  abrupt  termina- 
tion to  a  ravine,  which,  united  to  another  coming 
in  on  the  right,  continues  on  to  the  river,  a  distance 
of  several  hundred  yards,  through  a  wood.  The 
entrance  to  the  cave  is  exceedingly  rough  and  rug- 
ged, piled  with  huge  fragments  of  the  cliff  which 
have  fallen  from  above,  and  it  can  be  approached 
only  with  difficulty.  It  is  formed,  indeed,  by  the 
rocky  bed  of  a  stream  flowing  out  from  the  cave's 
mouth,  inducing  the  belief  that  to  this  circumstance 
the  ravine  owes  its  origin.  The  entrance  is  formed 
by  a  broad  arch  about  twenty  feet  in  altitude,  with 
twice  that  breadth  between  the  abutments.  As 
we  entered,  the  damp  air  of  the  cavern  swept  out 
around  us  chill  and  penetrating.  An  abrupt  angle 
of  the  wall  soon  shut  out  the  daylight,  and  we  ad- 
vanced by  the  light  of  our  candles.  The  floor, 
and  roof,  and  sides  of  the  cavern  became  ex- 
ceedingly irregular  as  we  proceeded,  and,  after 
penetrating  to  the  depth  of  several  hundred  yards. 


152  THE   FAR  WEST, 

the  floor  and  ceiling  approached  each  other  so 
nearly  that  we  were  forced  to  pursue  our  way 
upon  our  hands  and  knees.  In  some  chambers  the 
roof  and  walls  assumed  grotesque  and  singular 
shapes,  caused  by  the  water  trickling  through  the 
porous  limestone.  In  one  apartment  was  to  be 
seen  the  exact  outline  of  a  human  foot  of  enormous 
size ;  in  another,  that  of  an  inverted  boat ;  while 
the  vault  in  a  third  assumed  the  shape  of  an  im- 
mense coffin.  The  sole  proprietors  of  the  cavern 
seemed  the  bats,  and  of  these  the  number  was  in- 
credible. In  some  places  the  reptiles  suspended 
themselves  like  swarms  of  bees  from  the  roof  and 
walls ;  and  so  compactly  one  upon  the  other  did 
they  adhere,  that  scores  could  have  been  crushed 
at  a  blow.  After  a  ramble  of  more  than  an  hour 
within  these  shadowy  realms,  during  which  several 
false  passages  upon  either  side,  soon  abruptly  ter- 
minating, were  explored,  we  at  length  once  more 
emerged  to  the  light  and  warmth  of  the  sunbeams, 
thoroughly  drenched  by  the  dampness  of  the  at- 
mosphere and  the  water  dripping  from  the  roof. 

Ancient  Indian  tumuli  and  graves  are  often 
found  in  this  neighbourhood.  On  the  Riviere  des 
Peres,  which  is  crossed  by  the  road  leading  to  the 
city,  and  about  seven  miles  distant,  there  are  a 
number  of  graves  which,  from  all  appearance, 
seem  not  to  have  been  disturbed  for  centuries. 
The  cemetery  is  situated  on  a  high  bluff  looking 
down  upon  the  stream,  and  is  said  to  have  con- 
tained skeletons  of  a  gigantic  size.  Each  grave 
consisted  of  a  shallow  basin,  formed  by  flat  stones 


THE    FAR    WEST.  153 

planted  upon  their  edges  ;  most  of  them,  however, 
are  mossed  by  age,  or  have  sunk  beneath  the  sur- 
face, and  their  tenants  have  crumbled  to  their  ori- 
ginal dust.  Some  years  since,  a  Roman  coin  of  a 
rare  species  was  found  upon  the  banks  of  the  Riv- 
iere des  Peres  by  an  Indian.  This  may,  perhaps, 
be  classed  among  the  other  antiquities  of  European 
origin  which  are  frequently  found.  A  number  of 
Roman  coins,  bearing  an  early  date  of  the  Chris- 
tian era,  are  said  to  have  been  discovered  in  a  cave 
near  Nashville,  in  the  State  of  Tennessee,  which  at 
the  time  excited  no  little  interest  among  antiqua- 
ries :  they  were  doubtless  deposited  by  some  of 
the  settlers  of  the  country  from  Europe.  Settle- 
ments on  the  Riviere  des  Peres  are  said  to  have 
been  commenced  at  an  early  period  by  the  Jesuits, 
and  one  of  them  was  drowned  near  its  mouth :  from 
this  circumstance  it  derived  its  name.  In  the  bed 
of  this  stream,  about  six  miles  from  the  city,  is  a 
sulphur  spring,  which  is  powerfully  sudorific  ;  and, 
when  taken  in  any  quantity,  throws  out  an  erup- 
tion over  the  whole  body.  A  remarkable  cavern 
is  said  to  be  situated  on  this  river,  by  some  consid- 
ered superior  to  that  below  the  Barracks.  A  short 
distance  from  Vuide  Poche  are  to  be  seen  the  re- 
mains of  a  pile  of  ruins,  said  to  be  those  of  a  fort 
erected  by  La  Salle  when,  on  his  second  visit,  he 
took  possession  of  the  country  in  the  name  of  the 
King  of  France,  and  in  honour  of  him  called  it 
Louisiana. 
St.  Louis. 


154  THE    FAR   WEST. 


XIV. 

"  Here  I  have  'scaped  the  city's  stifling  heat, 

Its  horrid  sounds  and  its  polluted  air ; 
And,  where  the  season's  milder  fervours  beat, 

And  gales,  that  sweep  the  forest  borders,  bear 
The  song  of  bird  and  sound  of  running  stream, 
Have  come  a  while  to  wander  and  to  dream." 

BRYANT. 

"  I  lingered,  by  some  soft  enchantment  bound, 

And  gazed,  enraptured,  on  the  lovely  scene  ; 
From  the  dark  summit  of  an  Indian  mound 
I  saw  the  plain  outspread  in  living  green ; 
Its  fringe  of  cliffs  was  in  the  distance  seen, 
And  the  dark  line  of  forests  sweeping  round." 

FLINT. 

THERE  are  few  things  more  delightfully  refresh- 
ing, amid  the  fierce  fervour  of  midsummer,  than 
to  forsake  the  stifled,  polluted  atmosphere  of  the 
city  for  the  cool  breezes  of  its  forest  suburbs.  A 
freshened  elasticity  seems  gliding  through  the  lan- 
guid system,  bracing  up  the  prostrated  fibres  of  the 
frame ;  the  nerves  thrill  with  renewed  tensity, 
and  the  vital  flood  courses  in  fuller  gush,  and  leaps 
onward  with  more  bounding  buoyancy  in  its  fe- 
vered channels.  Every  one  has  experienced  this ; 
and  it  was  under  circumstances  like  these  that  I 
found  myself  one  bright  day,  after  a  delay  at  St. 
Louis  which  began  at  length  to  be  intolerably  te- 
dious, forsaking  the  sultry,  sun-scorched  streets  of 


THE    FAR   WEST.  155 

the  city,  and  crossing  the  turbid  flood  for  a  tour 
upon  the  prairies  of  Illinois.  How  delightful  to  a 
frame  just  freed  from  the  feverish  confinement  of 
a  sick-chamber,  brief  though  it  had  been,  was  the 
fresh  breeze  which  came  careering  over  the  water, 
rippling  along  the  polished  surface,  and  gayly  riding 
the  miniature  waves  of  its  own  creation !  The  finest 
point  from  which  to  view  the  little  "  City  of  the 
French"  is  from  beneath  the  enormous  sycamores 
upon  the  opposite  bank  of  the  Mississippi.  It  is 
from  this  spot  alone  that  anything  approaching  to  a 
cosmorama  can  be  commanded.  The  city,  retreat- 
ing as  it  does  from  the  river's  brink — its  buildings 
of  every  diversity  of  form,  material,  and  structure, 
promiscuously  heaped  the  one  upon  the  other,  and 
the  whole  intermingled  with  the  fresh  green  of  for- 
est-trees, may  boast  of  much  scenic  beauty.  The 
range  of  white  limestone  warehouses,  circling  like 
a  crescent  the  shore,  form  the  most  prominent  fea- 
ture of  the  foreground,  while  the  forest  of  shrub- 
oaks  sweeps  away  in  the  rear.  For  some  time  I 
gazed  upon  this  imposing  view,  and  then,  slowly 
turning  my  horse's  head,  was  upon  the  dusty  thor- 
oughfare to  Edwardsville.  For  the  first  time  I 
found  myself  upon  the  celebrated  "  American  Bot- 
tom," a  tract  of  country  which,  for  fertility  and 
depth  of  soil,  is  perhaps  unsurpassed  in  the  world. 
A  fine  road  of  baked  loam  extended  along  my  route. 
Crossing  Cahokia  Creek,  which  cuts  its  deep  bed 
diagonally  through  the  bottom  from  the  bluffs  some 
six  miles  distant,  and  threading  a  grove  of  the 
beautiful  pecan,  with  its  long  trailing  boughs  and 


156  THE  FAR  WEST* 

delicate  leaves,  my  path  was  soon  winding 
fully  away  among  those  venerable  monuments  of  a 
race  now  passed  from  the  earth.  The  eye  is  struck 
at  first  by  the  number  of  these  eminences,  as  well 
as  by  their  symmetry  of  form  and  regularity  of 
outline ;  and  the  most  familiar  resemblance  sug- 
gested is  that  of  gigantic  hay-ricks  sprinkled  over 
the  uniform  surface  of  the  prairie  on  every  side. 
As  you  advance,  however,  into  the  plain,  leaving 
the  range  of  mounds  upon  the  left,  something  of  ar- 
rangement is  detected  in  their  relative  position ; 
and  a  design  too  palpable  is  betrayed  to  mistake 
them  for  the  handiwork  of  Nature.  Upward  of 
one  hundred  of  these  mounds,  it  is  stated,  may  be 
enumerated  within  seven  miles  of  St.  Louis,  their 
altitude  varying  from  ten  to  sixty  feet,  with  a  cir- 
cumference at  the  base  of  about  as  many  yards. 
One  of  these,  nearly  in  the  centre  of  the  first  collec- 
tion, is  remarked  as  considerably  larger  than  those 
around,  and  from  its  summit  is  commanded  an  ex- 
tensive view  of  the  scene.  The  group  embraces, 
perhaps,  fifty  tumuli,  sweeping  off  from  opposite 
the  city  to  the  northeast,  in  form  of  a  crescent,  par- 
allel to  the  river,  and  at  a  distance  from  it  of  about 
one  mile :  they  extend  about  the  same  distance, 
and  a  belt  of  forest  alone  obstructs  their  view  from 
the  city.  When  this  is  removed,  and  the  prairie  is 
under  cultivation,  the  scene  laid  open  must  be 
beautiful.  The  outline  of  the  mounds  is  ordinarily 
that  of  a  gracefully-rounded  cone  of  varying  de- 
clivity, though  often  the  form  is  oblong,  approach- 
ing the  rectangle  or  ellipse.  In  some  instances 


THE   PAR   WEST.  157 

they  are  perfectly  square,  with  a  level  area  upon 
the  summit  sufficient  for  a  dwelling  and  the  neces- 
sary purlieus.  Most  of  them  are  clothed  with 
dense  thickets  and  the  coarse  grass  of  the  bottom  ; 
while  here  and  there  stands  out  an  aged  oak,  rooted 
in  the  mould,  tossing  its  green  head  proudly  to  the 
breeze,  its  rough  bark  shaggy  with  moss,  and  the 
pensile  parasite  flaunting  from  its  branches.  Some 
few  of  the  tumuli,  however,  are  quite  naked,  and 
present  a  rounded,  beautiful  surface  from  the  sur- 
rounding plain.  At  this  point,  about  half  a  mile 
from  the  river-bank,  commencing  with  the  first 
group  of  mounds,  extends  the  railroad  across  the 
bottom  to  the  bluffs.  The  expense  of  this  work 
was  considerable.  It  crosses  a  lake,  into  the  bed 
of  which  piles  were  forced  a  depth  of  ninety 
feet  before  a  foundation  for  the  tracks  sufficiently 
firm  could  be  obtained.  Coal  is  transported  to  St. 
Louis  upon  this  railway  direct  from  the  mines ; 
and  the  beneficial  effects  to  be  anticipated  from  it 
in  other  respects  are  very  great.  A  town  called 
Pitlsburg  has  been  laid  out  at  the  foot  of  the  coal 
bluffs. 

Leaving  the  first  collection  of  tumuli,  the  road 
wound  away  smooth  and  uniform  through  the  level 
prairie,  with  here  and  there  upon  the  left  a  slight 
elevation  from  its  low  surface,  seeming  a  continua- 
tion of  the  group  behind,  or  a  link  of  union  to  those 
yet  before.  It  was  a  sweet  afternoon  ;  the  atmo- 
sphere was  still  and  calm,  and  summer's  golden 
haze  was  sleeping  magnificently  on  the  far-off  bluffs. 
At  intervals  the  soft  breath  of  the  "  sweet  South" 

VOL.  I.— O 


158  THE   FAR   WEST. 

came  dancing  over  the  tall,  glossy  herbage,  and  the 
many-hued  prairie-flowers  flashed  gayly  in  the  sun-* 
light.  There  was  the  heliotrope,  in  all  its  gaudy 
but  magnificent  forms  ;  there  the  deep  cerulean  of 
the  fringed  gentiana,  delicate  as  an  iris  ;  there  the 
mellow  gorgeousness  of  the  solidago,  in  some  spots 
along  the  pathway,  spreading  out  itself,  as  it  were, 
into  a  perfect  "field  of  the  cloth  of  gold  ;"  and  the 
balmy  fragrance  of  the  aromatic  wild  thyme  or  the 
burgamot,  scattered  in  rich  profusion  over  the  plain, 
floated  over  all.  Small  coveys  of  the  prairie-fowl, 
tetrao  pratensis,  a  fine  species  of  grouse,  the  un- 
gainly form  of  the  partridge,  or  that  of  the  timid  little 
hare,  would  appear  for  a  moment  in  the  dusty  road, 
and,  on  my  nearer  approach,  away  they  hurriedly 
scudded  beneath  the  friendly  covert  of  the  bright- 
leaved  sumac  or  the  thickets  of  the  rosebush.  Ex- 
tensive groves  of  the  wild  plum  and  the  crab-apple, 
bending  beneath  the  profusion  of  clustering  fruitage, 
succeeded  each  other  for  miles  along  the  path  as  I 
rode  onward  ;  now  extending  in  continuous  thickets, 
and  then  swelling  up  like  green  islets  from  the  sur- 
face of  the  plain,  their  cool  recesses  affording  a  re- 
freshing shade  for  the  numerous  herds.  The  rude 
farmhouse,  too,  with  its  ruder  outbuildings,  half  bu- 
ried in  the  dark  luxuriance  of  its  maize-fields,  from 
time  to  time  was  seen  along  the  route. 

After  a  delightful  drive  of  half  an  hour  the  sec- 
ond group  of  eminences,  known  as  the  "  Cantine 
Mounds,"  appeared  upon  the  prairie  at  a  distance 
of  three  or  four  miles,  the  celebrated  "  Monk  Hill," 
largest  monument  of  the  kind  yet  discovered  in 
North  America,  heaving  up  'its  giant,  forest-clothed 


THE    FAR    WEST.  159 

form  in  the  midst.  What  are  the  reflections  to 
which  this  stupendous  earth-heap  gives  birth  ? 
What  the  associations  which  throng  the  excited 
fancy  ?  What  a  field  for  conjecture  !  What  a 
boundless  range  for  the  workings  of  imagination! 
What  eye  can  view  this  venerable  monument  of 
the  past,  this  mighty  landmark  in  the  lapse  of  ages, 
this  gray  chronicler  of  hoary  centuries,  and  turn 
away  uninterested  ? 

As  it  is  first  beheld,  surrounded  by  the  lesser 
heaps,  it  is  mistaken  by  the  traveller  for  an  elevation 
of  natural  origin :  as  he  draws  nigh,  and  at  length 
stands  at  the  base,  its  stupendous  magnitude,  its 
lofty  summit,  towering  above  his  head  and  throwing 
its  broad  shadow  far  across  the  meadow ;  its  slopes, 
ploughed  with  yawning  ravines  by  the  torrents  of 
centuries  descending  to  the  plain;  its  surface  and 
declivities  perforated  by  the  habitations  of  burrow- 
ing animals,  and  carpeted  with  tangled  thickets ;  the 
vast  size  of  the  aged  oaks  rearing  themselves  from 
its  soil ;  and,  finally,  the  farmhouse^  with  its  various 
structures,  its  garden,  and  orchard,  and  well  rising 
upon  the  broad  area  of  the  summit,  and  the  carriage 
pathway  winding  up  from  the  base,  all  confirm  his 
impression  that  no  hand  but  that  of  the  Mightiest 
could  have  reared  the  enormous  mass.  At  that 
moment,  should  he  be  assured  that  this  vast  earth- 
heap  was  of  origin  demonstrably  artificial,  he  would 
smile ;  but  credulity  the  most  sanguine  would  fail 
to  credit  the  assertion.  But  when,  with  jealous  eye, 
slowly  and  cautiously,  and  with  measured  footsteps, 
lie  has  circled  its  base ;  when  he  has  surveyed  its 
slopes  and  declivities  from  every  position,  and  ha* 


160  THE    FAR  WEST. 

remarked  the  peculiar  uniformity  of  its  structure 
and  the  mathematical  exactitude  of  its  outline  ;  when 
he  has  ascended  to  its  summit,  and  looked  round 
upon  the  piles  of  a  similar  character  by  which  it  is 
surrounded ;  when  he  has  taken  into  consideration 
its  situation  upon  a  river-bottom  of  nature  decidedly 
diluvial,  and,  of  consequence,  utterly  incompatible 
with  the  natural  origin  of  such  elevations  ;  when  he 
has  examined  the  soil  of  which  it  is  composed,  and 
has  discovered  it  to  be  uniformly,  throughout  the  en- 
tire mass,  of  the  same  mellow  and  friable  species  as 
that  of  the  prairie  at  its  base  ;  and  when  he  has  lis- 
tened with  scrutiny  to  the  facts  which  an  examina- 
tion of  its  depths  has  thrown  to  light  of  its  nature 
and  its  contents,  he  is  compelled,  however  reluc- 
tantly, yet  without  a  doubt,  to  declare  that  the  gi- 
gantic pile  is  incontestibly  the  WORKMANSHIP  OF 
MAN'S  HAND.  But,  with  such  an  admission,  what  is 
the  crowd  of  reflections  which  throng  and  startle 
the  mind  ?  What  a  series  of  unanswerable  inquiries 
succeed !  When  was  this  stupendous  earth-heap 
reared  up  from  the  plain  ?  By  what  race  of  beings 
was  the  vast  undertaking  accomplished  ?  What 
was  its  purpose  ?  What  changes  in  its  form  and 
magnitude  have  taken  place  ?  What  vicissitudes 
and  revolutions  have,  in  the  lapse  of  centuries,  rolled 
like  successive  waves  over  the  plains  at  its  base  ? 
As  we  reflect,  we  anxiously  look  around  us  for  some 
tradition,  some  time-stained  chronicle,  some  age- 
worn  record,  even  the  faintest  and  most  unsatisfac- 
tory legend,  upon  which  to  repose  our  credulity,  and 
relieve  the  inquiring  solicitude  of  the  mind,  Bui 


THE    FAR    WEST.  161 

our  research  is  hopeless.  The  present  race  of  ab- 
origines can  tell  nothing  of  these  tumuli.  To  them, 
as  to  us,  they  are  veiled  in  mystery.  Ages  since, 
long  ere  the  white-face  came,  while  this  fair  land 
was  yet  the  home  of  his  fathers,  the  simple  Indian 
stood  before  this  venerable  earth-heap,  and  gazed, 
and  wondered,  and  turned  away. 

But  there  is  another  reflection  which,  as  we  gaze 
upon  these  venerable  tombs,  addresses  itself  directly 
to  our  feelings,  and  bows  them  in  humbleness.  It 
is,  that  soon  our  memory  and  that  of  our  own  gen- 
eration will,  like  that  of  other  times  and  other  men, 
have  passed  away ;  that  when  these  frail  tenements 
shall  have  been  laid  aside  to  moulder,  the  remem- 
brance will  soon  follow  them  to  the  land  of  for- 
getfulness.  Ah,  if  there  be  an  object  in  all  the  wide 
universe  of  human  desires  for  which  the  heart  of 
man  yearns  with  an  intensity  of  craving  more  ago- 
nizing and  deathless  than  for  any  other,  it  is  that 
the  memory  should  live  after  the  poor  body  is  dust. 
It  was  this  eternal  principle  of  our  nature  which 
reared  the  lonely  tombs  of  Egypt  amid  the  sands 
and  barrenness  of  the  desert.  For  ages  untold  have 
the  massive  and  gloomy  pyramids  looked  down  upon 
the  floods  of  the  Nile,  and  generation  after  genera- 
tion has  passed  away ;  yet  their  very  existence  still 
remains  a  mystery,  and  their  origin  points  down  our 
inquiry  far  beyond  the  grasp  of  human  ken,  into  the 
boiling  mists,  the  "wide  involving  shades"  of  cen- 
turies past.  And  yet  how  fondly  did  they  who, 
with  the  toil,  and  blood,  and  sweat,  and  misery  of 
ages,  upreared  these  stupendous  piles,  anticipate 
.  02 


162  THE    FAR    WEST, 

an  immortality  for  their  name  which,  like  the  efful- 
gence of  a  golden  eternity,  should  for  ever  linger 
around  their  summits  !  So  was  it  with  the  ancient 
tomb-builders  of  this  New  World ;  so  has  it  been 
with  man  in  every  stage  of  his  existence,  from  the 
hour  that  the  giant  Babel  first  reared  its  dusky  walls 
from  the  plains  of  Shinar  down  to  the  era  of  the 
present  generation.  And  yet  how  hopeless,  despe- 
rately, eternally  hopeless  are  such  aspirations  of  the 
children  of  men  !  As  nations  or  as  individuals,  our 
memory  we  can  never  embalm !  A  few,  indeed, 
may  retain  the  forlorn  relic  within  the  sanctuary  of 
hearts  which  loved  us  while  with  them,  and  that 
with  a  tenderness  stronger  than  death;  but,  with 
the  great  mass  of  mankind,  our  absence  can  be  no- 
ticed only  for  a  day ;  and  then  the  ranks  close  up, 
and  a  gravestone  tells  the  passing  stranger  that  we 
lived  and  died :  a  few  years — the  finger  of  time  has 
been  busy  with  the  inscription,  and  we  are  as  if  we 
had  never  been.  If,  then,  it  must  be  even  so, 

"  Oh,  let  us  keep  the  soul  embalm'd  and  pure 
In  living  virtue  ;  that,  when  both  must  sever, 
Although  corruption  may  our  frame  consume, 
Th'  immortal  spirit  in  the  skies  may  bloom." 

St.  Clair  Co.,  Illinois. 


THE    FAR    WEST.  163 


XV. 

"  Are  they  here, 

The  dead  of  other  days  1     And  did  the  dust 
Of  these  fair  solitudes  once  stir  with  life 
And  burn  with  passion  1     All  is  gone  ; 
All,  save  the  piles  of  earth  that  hold  their  bones, 
The  platforms  where  they  worshipp'd  unknown  gods, 
The  barriers  which  they  builded  from  the  soil 
To  keep  the  foe  at  bay." 

The  Prairies. 

THE  antiquity  of  "  Monk  Mound"  is  a  circum- 
stance which  fails  not  to  arrest  the  attention  of  every 
visiter.  That  centuries  have  elapsed  since  this  vast 
pile  of  earth  was  heaped  up  from  the  plain,  no  one  can 
doubt :  every  circumstance,  even  the  most  minute 
and  inconsiderable,  confirm  an  idea  which  the  ven- 
erable oaks  upon  its  soil  conclusively  demonstrate. 
With  this  premise  admitted,  consider  for  a  moment 
the  destructive  effects  of  the  elements  even  for  a 
limited  period  upon  the  works  of  our  race.  Little 
more  than  half  a  century  has  elapsed  since  the  war 
of  our  revolution ;  but  where  are  the  fortifications, 
and  parapets,  and  military  defences  then  thrown 
up?  The  earthy  ramparts  of  Bunker  Hill  were 
nearly  obliterated  long  ago  by  the  levelling  finger 
of  time,  and  scarce  a  vestige  now  remains  to  assist 
in  tracing  out  the  line  of  defence.  The  same  is 
true  with  these  works  all  over  the  country ;  and  even 
those  of  the  last  war — those  at  Baltimore,  for  exam- 


164  THE    FAR   WEST. 

pie — are  vanishing  as  fast  as  the  elements  can  melt 
them  away.  Reflect,  then,  that  this  vast  earth-heap 
of  which  I  am  writing  is  composed  of  a  soil  far  more 
yielding  in  its  nature  than  they ;  that  its  superfices 
are  by  no  means  compact;  and  then  conceive,  if 
you  can,  its  stupendous  character  before  it  had 
bided  the  rains,  and  snows,  and  storm-winds  of  cen- 
turies, and  before  the  sweeping  floods  of  the  "  Father 
of  Waters"  had  ever  circled  its  base.  Our  thoughts 
are  carried  back  by  the  reflection  to  the  era  of 
classic  fiction,  arid  we  almost  fancy  another  war 
of  the  Titans  against  the  heavens — 

"  Conati  imponere  Pelio  Ossam — 
— atque  Ossae  frondosum  involvere  Olympum," 

if  a  quotation  from  the  sweet  bard  of  Mantua,  upon 
a  topic  like  the  present,  may  be  pardoned.  How 
large  an  army  of  labourers,  without  the  use  of  iron 
utensils,  as  we  have  every  reason  to  suppose  was 
the  case,  would  be  required  for  scraping  up  from  the 
prairie's  surface  this  huge  pile  ;  and  how  many  years 
would  suffice  for  its  completion  ?  No  one  can  doubt 
that  the  broad  surface  of  the  American  Bottom,  in 
its  whole  length  and  breadth,  together  with  all  the 
neighbouring  region  on  either  bank  of  the  Missis- 
sippi, once  swarmed  with  living  men  and  animals, 
even  as  does  now  the  depths  of  its  soil  with  their 
remains.  The  collection  of  mounds  which  I  have 
been  attempting  to  describe  would  seem  to  indicate 
two  extensive  cities  within  the  extent  of  five  miles  ; 
and  other  groups  of  the  same  character  may  be  seen 
upon  a  lower  section  of  the  bottom,  to  say  nothing 
of  those  within  the  more  immediate  vicinity  of  St. 


THE    FAR    WEST.  165 

Louis.  The  design  of  these  mounds,  as  has  been 
before  stated,  was  various,  undoubtedly  ;  many  were 
sepulchres,  some  fortifications,  some  watch-towers 
or  videttes,  and  some  of  the  larger  class,  among 
which  we  would  place  Monk  Hill,  were  probably 
devoted  to  the  ceremonies  of  religion. 

The  number  of  the  earth-heaps  known  as  the 
Cantine  Mounds  is  about  fifty,  small  and  great. 
They  lie  very  irregularly  along  the  southern  and  east- 
ern bank  of  Cahokia  Creek,  occupying  an  area  some 
miles  in  circuit.  They  are  of  every  form  and  every 
size,  from  the  mere  molehill,  perceptible  only  by 
a  deeper  shade  in  the  herbage,  to  the  gigantic  Monk 
Mound,  of  which  I  have  already  said  so  much. 
This  vast  heap  stands  about  one  hundred  yards 
from  the  creek,  and  the  slope  which  faces  it  is 
very  precipitous,  and  clothed  with  aged  timber. 
The  area  of  the  base  is  about  six  hundred  yards  in 
circumference,  and  the  perpendicular  altitude  has 
been  estimated  at  from  ninety  to  upward  of  a  hun- 
dred feet.  The  form  is  that  of  a  rectangle,  lying 
north  and  south;  and  upon  the  latter  extremity,  which 
commands  a  view  down  the  bottom,  is  spread  out  a 
broad -terrace,  or  rather  a  steppe  to  the  main  body, 
about  twenty  feet  lower  than  the  summit,  extending 
the  whole  length  of  the  side,  and  is  one  hundred  and 
fifty  feet  in  breadth.  At  the  left  extremity  of  this 
terrace  winds  up  the  sloping  pathway  from  the 
prairie  to  the  summit  of  the  mound.  Formerly  this 
road  sloped  up  an  inclined  plane,  projecting  from  the 
middle  of  the  terrace,  ten  feet  in  breadth  and  twenty 
in  extent,  and  seemed  graded  for  that  purpose  at 


166  THE    FAR   WEST. 

the  erection  of  the  mound.     This  declivity  yet  re- 
mains, but  now  forms  part  of  a  corn-field. 

The  view  from  the  southern  extremity  of  the 
mound,  which  is  free  from  trees  and  underbrush,  is 
extremely  beautiful.  Away  to  the  south  sweeps  off 
.the  broad  river-bottom,  at  this  place  about  seven 
miles  in  width,  its  waving  surface  variegated  by  all 
the  magnificent  hues  of  the  summer  Flora  of  the 
prairies.  At  intervals,  from  the  deep  herbage  is 
flung  back  the  flashing  sheen  of  a  silvery  lake  to  the 
oblique  sunlight;  while  dense  groves  of  the  crab- 
apple  and  other  indigenous  wild  fruits  are  sprinkled 
about  like  islets  in  the  verdant  sea.  To  the  left,  at 
a  distance  of  three  or  four  miles,  stretches  away  the 
long  line  of  bluffs,  now  presenting  a  surface  naked 
and  rounded  by  groups  of  mounds,  and  now  wooded 
to -their  summits,  while  a  glimpse  at -times  may 
be  caught  of  the  humble  farmhouses  at  their  base. 
On  the  right  meanders  the  Cantine  Creek,  which 
gives  the  name  to  the  group  of  mounds,  betraying  at 
intervals  its  bright  surface  through  the  belt  of  forest 
by  which  it  is  margined.  In  this  direction,  far  away 
in  blue  distance,  rising  through  the  mist  and  forest, 
may  be  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  spires  and  cupolas 
of  the  city,  glancing  gayly  in  the  rich  summer  sun. 
The  base  of  the  mound  is  circled  upon  every  side 
by  lesser  elevations  of  every  form  and  at  various 
distances.  Of  these,  some  lie  in  the  heart  of  the 
extensive  maize-fields,  which  constitute  the  farm  of 
the  proprietor  of  the  principal  mound,  presenting  a 
beautiful  exhibition  of  light  and  shade,  shrouded  as 
they  are  in  the  dark,  twinkling  leaves.  The  most 


THE    FAR   WEST.  167 

remarkable  are  two  standing  directly  opposite  the 
southern  extremity  of  the  principal  one,  at  a  distance 
of  some  hundred  yards,  in  close  proximity  to  each 
other,  and  which  never  fail  to  arrest  the  eye.  There 
are  also  several  large  square  mounds  covered  with 
forest  along  the  margin  of  the  creek  to  the  right, 
and  groups  are  caught  rising  from  the  declivities  of 
the  distant  bluffs. 

Upon  the  western  side  of  Monk  Mound,  at  a  dis- 
tance of  several  yards  from  the  summit,  is  a  well 
some  eighty  or  ninety  feet  in  depth ;  the  water  of 
which  would  be  agreeable  enough  were  not  the 
presence  of  sulphur,  in  some  of  its  modifications,  so 
palpable.  This  well  penetrates  the  heart  of  the 
mound,  yet,  from  its  depth,  cannot  reach  lower  than 
the  level  of  the  surrounding  plain.  I  learned,  upon 
inquiry,  that  when  this  well  was  excavated,  several 
fragments  of  pottery,  of  decayed  ears  of  corn,  and 
other  articles,  were  thrown  up  from  a  depth  of  sixty- 
five  feet ;  proof  incontestible  of  the  artificial  struc- 
ture of  the  mound.  The  associations,  when  drink- 
ing the  water  of  this  well,  united  with  its  peculiar 
flavour,  are  not  of  the  most  exquisite  character, 
when  we  reflect  that  the  precious  fluid  has  probably 
filtrated,  part  of  it,  at  least,  through  the  contents  of  a 
sepulchre.  The  present  proprietor  is  about  making 
a  transfer,  I  was  informed,  of  the  whole  tract  to  a 
gentleman  of  St.  Louis,  who  intends  establishing 
here  a  house  of  entertainment.  If  this  design  is 
carried  into  effect,  the  drive  to  this  place  will  be  the 
most  delightful  in  the  vicinity  of  the  city. 

Monk  Mound  has  derived  its  name  and  much  of 


168  THE    FAR   WEST. 

its  notoriety  from  the  circumstance  that,  in  the  early 
part  of  the  present  century,  for  a  number  of  years, 
it  was  the  residence  of  a  society  of  ecclesiastics,  of 
the  order  La  Trappe,  the  most  ascetic  of  all  the 
monastic  denominations.  The  monastery  of  La 
Trappe  was  originally  situated  in  the  old  province 
of  Perche,  in  the  territory  of  Orleannois,  in  France, 
which  now,  with  a  section  of  Normandy,  constitutes 
the  department  of  Orne.  Its  site  is  said  to  have 
been  the  loneliest  and  most  desolate  spot  that  could 
be  selected  in  the  kingdom.  The  order  was  found- 
ed in  1 140  by  Rotrou,  count  of  Perche  ;  but  having 
fallen  into  decay,  and  its  discipline  having  become 
much  relaxed,  it  was  reformed  in  1664,  five  centu- 
ries subsequent,  by  the  Abbe  Armand  Ranee.  This 
celebrated  ecclesiastic,  history  informs  us,  was  in 
early  life  a  man  of  fashion  and  accomplishments  ;  of 
splendid  abilities,  distinguished  as  a  classical  scholar 
and  translator  of  Anacreon's  Odes.  At  length,  the 
sudden  death  of  his  mistress  Montbazon,  to  whom 
he  was  extremely  attached,  so  affected  him  that  he 
forsook  at  once  his  libertine  life,  banished  himself 
from  society,  and  introduced  into  the  monastery  of 
La  Trappe  an  austerity  of  discipline  hitherto  un- 
known. The  vows  were  chastity,  poverty,  obedi- 
ence, and  perpetual  silence.,  The  couch  was  a  slab 
of  stone,  the  diet  water  an^bread  once  in  twenty- 
four  hours,  and  each  member  removed  a  spadeful  of 
earth  every  day  from  the  Spot  of  his  intended  grave. 
The  following  passage  relative  to  this  monastery  I 
find  quoted  from  an  old  French  author ;  and  as  the 


THE    FAR    WEST.  169 

language  and  sentiments  are  forcible,  I  need  hardly 
apologize  for  introducing  it  entire. 

"  C'est  la  que  se  retirent,  ceux  qui  ont  commis 
quelque  crime  secret,  dont  les  remords  les  pour- 
suivent;  ceux  qui  sont  tourmentes  de  vapeurs  me- 
lancoliques  et  religieuse ;  ceux  qui  ont  -oublie  que 
Dieu  est  le  plus  misericordieux  des  peres,  et  qui 
ne  voient  en  lui,  que  le  plus  cruel  des  tyrans  ;  ceux 
qui  reduisent  d  vieu,  les  souffrances,  la  mort  et  la 
passion  de  Jesu  Crist,,  et  qui  ne  voient  la  religion 
que  du  cote  effrayent  et  terrible :  c'est  la  que  sont 
pratique  des  austerite  qui  abregent  la  vie,  et  sont 
injure  d  la  divinite.n 

During  the  era  of  the  Reign  of  Terror  in  France, 
the  monks  of  La  Trappe,  as  well  as  all  the  other 
orders  of  priesthood,  were  dispersed  over  Europe. 
They  increased  greatly,  however,  notwithstanding 
persecution,  and  societies  established  themselves  in 
England  and  Germany.  From  the  latter  country 
emigrated  the  society  which  planted  themselves 
upon  the  American  Bottom.  They  first  settled  in 
the  State  of  Kentucky;  subsequently  they  estab- 
lished themselves  at  the  little  French  hamlet  of  Flo- 
risant,  and  in  1809  they  crossed  the  Mississippi,  and, 
strangely  enough,  selected  for  their  residence  the 
spot  I  have  been  describing.  Here  they  made  a 
purchase  of  about  four  hundred  acres,  and  petitioned 
Congress  for  a  pre-emption  right  to  some  thousands 
adjoining.  The  buildings  which  they  occupied  were 
never  of  a  very  durable  character,  but  consisted  of 
about  half  a  dozen  large  structures  of  logs,  on  the 
summit  of  the  mound  about  fifty  yards  to  the  right 

VOL.  I.— P 


170  THE    FAR   WEST. 

of  the  largest.  This  is  twenty  feet  in  height,  and 
upward  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  feet  square ;  a  well 
dug  by  the  Trappists  is  yet  to  be  seen,  though  the 
whole  mound  is  now  buried  in  thickets.  Their  out- 
buildings, stables,  granaries,  &c.,  which  were  nu- 
merous, lay  scattered  about  on  the  plain  below. 
Subsequently  they  erected  an  extensive  structure 
upon  the  terrace  of  the  principal  mound,  and  culti- 
vated its  soil  for  a  kitchen-garden,  while  the  area  of 
the  summit  was  sown  with  wheat.  Their  territory 
under  cultivation  consisted  of  about  one  hundred 
acres,  divided  into  three  fields,  and  embracing  sev- 
eral of  the  mound-. 

The  society  of  the  Trappists  consisted  of  about 
eighty  monks,  chiefly  Germans  and  French,  with  a 
few  of  our  own  countrymen,  under  governance  of 
one  of  their  number  called  Father  Urbain.  Had 
they  remained,  they  anticipated  an  accession  to  their 
number  of  about  two  hundred  monks  from  Europe. 
Their  discipline  was  equally  severe  with  that  of  the 
order  in  ancient  times.  Their  diet  was  confined  to 
vegetables,  and  of  these  they  partook  sparingly  but 
once  in  twenty-four  hours :  the  stern  vow  of  per- 
petual silence  was  upon  them  ;  no  female  was  per- 
mitted to  violate  their  retreat,  and  they  dug  their 
own  graves.  Their  location,  however,  they  found 
by  no  means  favourable  to  health,  notwithstanding 
the  severe  simplicity  of  their  habits.  During  the 
summer  months  fevers  prevailed  among  them  to  an 
alarming  extent;  few  escaped,  and  many  died. 
Among  the  latter  was  Louis  Antoine  Langlois,  a  na- 
tive of  Quebec,  more  familiarly  known  as  Francois 


THE    FAR    WEST.  171 

Marie  Bernard,  the  name  he  assumed  upon  entering 
the  monastery.     He  often  officiated  in  the  former. 
Catholic  church  of  St.  Louis,  and  is  still  remem- 
bered by  the  older  French  inhabitants  with  warm 
emotions,  as  he  was  greatly  beloved. 

The  Trappists  are  said  to  have  been  extremely 
industrious,  and  some  of  them  skilful  workmen  at 
various  arts,  particularly  that  of  watchmaking ;  in- 
somuch that  they  far  excelled  the  same  craft  in 
the  city,  and  were  patronised  by  all  the  unruly 
timepieces  in  the  region.  They  had  also  a  labora- 
tory of  some  extent,  and  a  library ;  but  the  latter, 
we  are  informed,  was  of  no  marvellous  repute,  em- 
bracing chiefly  the  day-dreams  of  the  Middle  Ages, 
and  the  wondrous  doings  of  the  legion  of  saints, 
together  with  a  few  obsolete  works  on  medicine. 
Connected  with  the  monastery  was  a  seminary  for 
the  instruction  of  boys;  or,  rather,  it  was  a  sort  of 
asylum  for  the  orphan,  the  desolate,  the  friendless, 
the  halt,  the  blind,  the  deaf,  and  the  dumb,  and  also 
for  the  aged  and  destitute  of  the  male  sex.  They 
subjected  their  pupils  to  the  same  severe  discipline 
which  they  imposed  upon  themselves.  They  were 
permitted  to  use  their  tongues  but  two  hours  a  day, 
and  then  very  judiciously:  instead  of  exercising 
that  "  unruly  member,"  they  were  taught  by  the 
good  fathers  to  gesticulate  with  their  fingers  at  each 
other  in  marvellous  fashion,  and  thus  to  communi- 
cate their  ideas.  As  to  juvenile  sports  and  the 
frolics  of  boyhood,  it  was  a  sin  to  dream  of  such 
things.  They  all  received  an  apprenticeship  to  some 
useful  trade,  however,  and  were  no  doubt  trained 


172  THE    FAR   WEST. 

up  most  innocently  and  ignorantly  in  the  way  they 
should  go.  The  pupils  were  chiefly  sons  of  the 
settlers  in  the  vicinity;  but  whether  they  were  fash- 
ioned by  the  worthy  fathers  into  good  American 
citizens  or  the  contrary,  tradition  telleth  not.  Tra- 
dition doth  present,  however,  sundry  allegations 
prejudicial  to  the  honest  monks,  which  we  are  bold 
to  say  is  all  slander,  and  unworthy  of  credence. 
Some  old  gossips  of  the  day  hesitated  not  to  affirm 
that  the  monks  were  x  marvellously  filthy  in  their 
habits ;  others,  that  they  were  prodigiously  keen  in 
their  bargains  ;  a  third  class,  that  the  younger  mem- 
bers were  not  so  obdurate  towards  the  gentler  part 
of  creation  as  they  might  have  been;  while  the 
whole  community  round  about,  una  voce,  chimed 
in,  and  solemnly  declared  that  men  who  neither 
might,  could,  would,  or  should  speak,  were  a  little 
worse  than  dumb  brutes,  and  ought  to  be  treated 
accordingly.  However  this  may  have  been,  it  is 
pretty  certain,  as  is  usually  the  case  with  our  dear 
fellow-creatures  where  they  are  permitted  to  know 
nothing  at  all  about  a  particular  matter,  the  good 
people,  in  the  overflowings  of  worldly  charity,  im- 
agined all  manner  of  evil  against  the  poor  Trappist* 
and  seemed  to  think  they  had  a  perfect  right  to 
violate  his  property  and  insult  his  person  when- 
ever they,  in  their  wisdom  and  kind  feeling,  thought 
proper  to  do  so.  But  this  was  soon  at  an  end.  In 
1813  the  monks  disposed  of  their  personal  property, 
and  leaving  fever  and  ague  to  their  persecutors,  and 
the  old  mounds  to  their  primitive  solitude,  forsook 
the  country  and  sailed  for  France. 


THE    PAR    WEST.  173 

Though  it  is  not  easy  to  palliate  the  unceremoni- 
ous welcome  with  which  the  unfortunate  Trappist 
was  favoured  at  the  hand  of  our  people,  yet  we  can 
readily  appreciate  the  feelings  which  prompted  their 
ungenerous  conduct.  How  strange,  hoV  exceed- 
ingly strange  must  it  have  seemed  to  behold  these 
men,  in  the  garb  and  guise  of  a  distant  land,  uttering, 
when  their  lips  broke  the  silence  in  which  they  were 
locked,  the  unknown  syllables  of  a  foreign  tongue  ; 
professing  an  austere,  an  ancient,  and  remarkable 
faith;  denying  themselves,  with  the  sternest  severity, 
the  simplest  of  Nature's  bounties  ;  how  strange  must 
it  have  seemed  to  behold  these  men  establishing 
themselves  in  the  depths  of  this  Western  wilderness, 
and,  by  a  fortuitous  concurrence  of  events,  planting 
their  altars  and  hearths  upon  the  very  tombs  of  a 
race  whose  fate  is  veiled  in  mystery,  and  practising 
their  austerities  at  the  forsaken  temple  of  a  forgotten 
worship !  How  strange  to  behold  the  devotees  of 
a  faith,  the  most  artificial  in  its  ceremonies  among 
men,  bowing  themselves  upon  the  high  places  reared 
up  by  the  hands  of  those  who  worshipped  the  Great 
Spirit  after  the  simplest  form  of  Nature's  adoration  ! 
For  centuries  this  singular  order  of  men  had  fig- 
ured upon  the  iron  page  of  history ;  their  legends 
had  shadowed  with  mystery  the  bright  leaf  of  po- 
etry and  romance,  and  with  them  were  associated 
many  a  wild  vision  of  fancy.  And  here  they  were, 
mysterious  as  ever,  with  cowl,  and  crucifix,  and 
shaven  head,  and  the  hairy  "  crown  of  thorns"  encir- 
cling; ecclesiastics  the  most  severe  of  all  the 
orders  of  monachism.  How  strange  must  it  all 
'P2 


174  THE   FAR   WEST. 

have  seemed !  and  it  is  hardly  to  be  wondered  at, 
unpopular  as  such  institutions  undoubtedly  were 
and  ever  have  been  in  this  blessed  land  of  ours,  that 
a  feeling  of  intolerance,  and  suspicion,  and  prejudice 
should  have  existed.  It  is  not  a  maxim  of  recent 
date  in  the  minds  of  men,  that  "  whatever  is  peculiar 
is  false." 
Madison  County,  EL 


XVL 

"  Let  none  our  author  rudely  blaiue, 

Who  from  the  story  has  thus  long  digressM." 

DAVENANT. 

"  Nay,  tell  me  not  of  lordly  halls  ! 

My  minstrels  are  the  trees  ; 
The  moss  and  the  rock  are  my  tapestried  walls, 
Earth  sounds  my  symphonies." 

BLACKWOOD'S  Mag. 

"  Sorrow  is  knowledge  ;  they  who  know  the  most 
Must  mourn  the  deepest  o'er  the  fatal  truth  ; 
The  Tree  of  Knowledge  is  not  that  of  Life." 

MANFRED. 

THERE  are  few  lovelier  villages  in  the  Valley  of 
the  West  than  the  little  town  of  Edwardsville,  in 
•whose  quiet  inn  many  of  the  preceding  observa- 
tions have  been  sketched.  It  was  early  one  bright 
morning  that  I  entered  Edwardsville,  after  passing 
a  sleepless  night  at  a  neighbouring  farmhouse. 
The  situation  of  the  village  is  a  narrow  ridge  of 


THE    FAR   WEST.  175 

land  swelling  abruptly  from  the  midst  of  deep  and 
tangled  woods.  Along  this  elevation  extends  the 
principal  street  of  the  place,  more  than  a  mile  in 
length,  and  upon  either  side  runs  a  range  of  neat  ed- 
ifices, most  of  them  shaded  by  forest-trees  in  their 
front  yards.  The  public  buildings  are  a  courthouse 
and  jail  of  brick,  neither  of  them  worthy  of  farther 
mention,  and  two  plain,  towerless  churches,  imbo- 
somed  in  a  grove  somewhat  in  the  suburbs  of  the 
village.  There  is  something  singularly  picturesque 
in  the  situation  of  these  churches,  and  the  struc- 
tures themselves  are  not  devoid  of  beauty  and  sym- 
metrical proportion.  At  this  place,  also,  is  located 
the  land-office  for  the  district.  On  the  morning  of 
my  arrival  at  the  village,  early  as  was  the  hour,  the 
place  was  thronged  with  disappointed  applicants 
for  land  ;  a  lean  and  hungry-looking  race,  by-the- 
by,  as  it  has  ever  been  my  lot  to  look  upon.  Un- 
fortunately, the  office  had  the  evening  before,  from 
some  cause,  been  closed,  and  the  unhappy  specula- 
tors were  forced  to  trudge  away  many  a  weary  mile, 
through  dust  and  sun,  with  their  heavy  specie  dol- 
lars, to  their  homes  again.  I  remember  once  to 
have  been  in  the  city  of  Bangor,  "  away  down  East, 
in  the  State  of  Maine,"  when  the  public  lands  on 
the  Penobscot  River  were  first  placed  in  the  market. 
The  land  mania  had  for  some  months  been  running 
high,  but  could  hardly  be  said  yet  to  have  reached 
a  crisis.  From  all  quarters  of  the  Union  speculators 
had  been  hurrying  to  the  place  ;  and  day  and  night, 
for  the  week  past,  the  steamers  had  been  disgorging 
upon  the  city  their  ravenous  freights.  The  impor- 


176  THE    FAR    WEST. 

tant  day  arrived.  At  an  early  hour  every  hotel, 
and  street,  and  avenue  was  swarming  with  stran- 
gers; and,  mingling  with  the  current  of  living 
bodies,  which  now  set  steadily  onward  to  the  place 
of  sale,  I  was  carried  resistlessly  on  by  its  force 
till  it  ceased.  A  confused  murmur  of  voices  ran 
through  the  assembled  thousands;  and  amid  the 
tumult,  the  ominous  words  **  land — lumber — title- 
deed"  and  the  like,  could  alone  be  distinguished. 
At  length,  near  noon,  the  clear  tones  of  the  auction- 
eer were  heard  rising  above  the  hum  of  the  multi- 
tude :  all  was  instantly  hushed  and  still ;  and  gain- 
ing an  elevated  site,  before  me  was  spread  out  a 
scene  worthy  a  Hogarth's  genius  and  pencil.  Such 
a  mass  of  working,  agitated  features,  glaring  with 
the  fierce  passion  of  avarice  and  the  basest  pro- 
pensities of  humanity,  one  seldom  is  fated  to  wit- 
ness. During  that  public  land-sale,  indeed,  I  beheld 
so  much  of  the  selfishness,  the  petty  meanness,  the 
detestable  heartlessness  of  man's  nature,  that  I  turned 
away  disgusted,  sick  at  heart  for  the  race  of  which 
I  was  a  member.  We  are  reproached  as  a  nation 
by  Europeans  for  the  contemptible  vice  of  avarice; 
is  the  censure  unjust?  Parson  Taylor  tell  us  that 
Satan  was  the  first  speculator  in  land ;  for  on  a 
certain  occasion  he  took  Jesus  up  into  an  exceed- 
ingly high  mountain,  and  showed  him  all  the  king- 
doms of  the  earth,  and  the  glory  thereof,  and  said 
to  him,  "  All  these  things  will  I  give  to  thee  if  thou 
wilt  fall  down  and  worship  me,"  when,  in  fact,  the 
devil  did  not  own  one  inch  of  land  to  give ! 

11  Think  of  the  devil's  brazen  phiz, 
When  not  an  inch  of  laid  was  his !" 


THE    FAR   WEST.  177 

Yet  it  is  to  be  apprehended  that  not  a  few  in  our 
midst  would  not  hesitate  to  barter  soul  and  body, 
and  fall  down  in  worship,  were  a  sufficient  number 
of  acres  spread  out  before  them  as  the  recompense. 
Among  other  objects  worthy  the  traveller's  notice 
in  passing  through  Edwardsville  is  a  press  for  the 
manufacture  of  that  well-known,  agreeable  liquid, 
castor  oil :  it  is  situated  within  the  precincts  of  what 
is  termed,  for  distinction,  the  "  Upper  Village."  The 
apparatus,  by  means  of  which  the  oil. is  expressed 
from  the  bean  and  clarified,  is  extremely  simple, 
consisting  merely  of  the  ordinary  jack-screw.  One 
bushel  of  the  castor  beans — palma  Christi — yields 
nearly  two  gallons  of  the  liquid.  The  only  previous 
preparation  to  pressing  is  to  dry  the  beans  in  an 
oven.  This  establishment*  has  been  in  operation 
upward  of  ten  years,  and  has  rendered  its  proprie- 
tor, Mr.  Adams,  a  wealthy  man.  He  has  a  delight- 
ful villa,  with  grounds  laid  out  with  taste ;  and 
though  many  years  have  passed  away  since  he  left 
his  native  New-England,  yet  the  generosity  of  his 
heart  and  the  benevolence  of  his  character  tell  truly 
that  he  has  not  yet  ceased  the  remembrance  of  early 
principles  and  habits.  The  village  of  Edwardsville 
and  its  vicinity  are  said  to  be  remarkably  healthy ; 
and  the  location  in  the  heart  of  a  fertile,  well-wa- 
tered, heavily-timbered  section  of  country,  tilled  by 
a  race  of  enterprising  yeomanry,  gives  promise  of 
rapid  advancement.  The  town  plat  was  first  laid 
off  in  1815  ;  but  the  place  advanced  but  little  in  im- 
portance until  five  years  afterward,  when  a  new 
*  In  May,  1838,  it  was  entirely  consumed  by  fire, 


178  THE    FAR    WEST. 

town  was  united  to  the  old.  About  twelve  miles 
southeast  from  Edwardsville  is  situated  the  delight- 
ful little  hamlet  of  Collinsville,  named  from  its 
founder,  to  which  I  paid  a  hasty  visit  during  my 
ramble  on  the  prairies.  It  was  settled  many  years 
ago,  but  till  very  recently  had  not  assumed  the  dig- 
nity of  a  town.  Its  site  is  the  broad,  uniform  sur- 
face of  an  elevated  ridge,  ascending  gently  from  the 
American  Bottom,  beautifully  shaded  by  forest-trees, 
and  extending  into  the  interior  for  several  miles.  It 
is  almost  entirely  settled  by  northern  emigrants, 
whose  peculiarities  are  nowhere  more  strikingly 
exhibited.  Much  attention  is  bestowed  upon  reli- 
gion and  education  ;  not  a  grocery  exists  in  the 
place,  nor,  by  the  charter  of  the  town,  can  one  be 
established  for  several  years.  This  little  village 
presents  a  delightful  summer-retreat  to  the  citizens 
of  St.  Louis,  only  ten  miles  distant. 

The  sun  had  not  yet  risen  when  I  left  Edwards- 
ville, after  a  pleasant  visit,  and,  descending  into  the 
Bottom,  pursued  my  route  over  the  plain  to  Alton.,. 
The  face  of  the  country,  for  a  portion  of  the  way,  is 
broken,  and  covered  with  forests  of  noble  trees,  until 
the  traveller  finds  himself  on  the  deep  sand-plains, 
stretching  away  for  some  miles,  and  giving  support 
to  a  stunted,  scragged  growth  of  shrub-oaks.  The 
region  bears  palpable  evidence  of  having  been, 
at  no  distant  period,  submerged ;  and  the  idea  is 
confirmed  by  the  existence,  at  the  present  time,  of  a 
lake  of  considerable  extent  on  the  southern  border, 
which,  from  the  character  of  the  surface,  a  slight  ad- 
dition of  water  would  spread  for  miles.  I  shall  not 


THE    PAR    WEST.  179 

soon  forget,  I  think,  the  day  I  entered  Alton  for  the 
second  time  during  my  ramble  in  the  West.  It  was 
near  the  noon  after  an  exceedingly  sultry  morning; 
and  the  earth  beneath  my  horse's  hoofs  was  reduced 
by  protracted  drought  to  an  impalpable  powder  to 
the  depth  of  several  inches.  The  blazing  sunbeams, 
veiled  by  not  a  solitary  cloud,  reflected  from  the 
glassy  surface  of  the  Mississippi  as  from  the  face 
of  an  immense  steely  mirror,  and  again  thrown  back 
by  the  range  of  beetling  bluffs  above,  seemed  con- 
verged into  an  intense  burning  focus  along  the 
scorched-up  streets  and  glowing  roofs  of  the  village. 
I  have  endured  heat,  but  none  more  intolerable  in 
the  course  of  my  life  than  that  of  which  I  speak. 

In  the  evening,  when  the  sultriness  of  the  day 
was  over,  passing  through  the  principal  street  of  the 
town,  I  ascended  that  singular  range  of  bluffs  which, 
commencing  at  this  point,  extend  along  the  river, 
and  to  which,  on  a  former  occasion,  I  have  briefly 
alluded.  The  ascent  is  arduous,  but  the  glorious 
view  from  the  summit  richly  repays  the  visiter  for 
his  toil.  The  withering  atmosphere  of  the  de- 
pressed, sunburnt  village  at  my  feet  was  delight- 
fully exchanged  for  the  invigorating  breezes  of  the 
hills,  as  the  fresh  evening  wind  came  wandering 
up  from  the  waters.  It  was  the  sunset  hour.  The 
golden,  slanting  beams  of  departing  day  were  re- 
flected from  the  undulating  bosom  of  the  river,  as 
its  bright  waters  stretched  away  among  the  western 
forests,  as  if  from  a  sea  of  molten,  gliding  silver.  On 
the  left,  directly  at  your  feet,  reposes  the  village  of 
Alton,  overhung  by  hills,  with  the  gloomy,  castellated 


180  THE    FAR   WEST. 

walls  of  the  Penitentiary  lifting  up  their  dusky  out- 
line upon  its  skirts,  presenting  to  the  eye  a  perfect 
panorama  as  you  look  down  upon  the  tortuous 
-streets,  the  extensive  warehouses  of  stone,  and  the 
range  of  steamers,  alive  with  bustle,  along  the  land- 
ing. Beyond  the  village  extends  a  deep  forest ; 
while  a  little  to  the  south  sweep  off  the  waters  of  the 
river,  bespangled  with  green  islands,  until,  grace- 
fully expanding  itself,  a  noble  bend  withdraws  it 
from  the  view.  It  is  at  this  point  that  the  Missouri 
disgorges  its  turbid,  heavy  mass  of  waters  into  the 
clear  floods  of  the  Upper  Mississippi,  hitherto  un- 
checkered  by  a  stain.  At  the  base  of  the  bluffs, 
upon  which  you  stand,  at  an  elevation  of  a  hundred 
and  fifty  feet,  rushes  with  violence  along  the  crags 
the  current  of  the  stream  ;  while  beyond,  upon  the 
opposite  plain,  is  beheld  the  log  hut  of  the  emigrant 
couched  beneath  the  enormous  sycamores,  and  send- 
ing up  its  undulating  thread  of  blue,  curling  smoke 
through  the  lofty  branches.  A  lumber  steam-mill 
is  also  here  to  be  seen.  Beyond  these  objects  the 
eye  wanders  over  an  interminable  carpet  of  forest- 
tops,  stretching  away  till  they  form  a  wavy  line  of 
dense  foliage  circling  the  western  horizon.  By  the 
aid  of  a  glass,  a  range  of  hills,  blue  in  the  distance, 
is  perceived  outlined  against  the  sky  :  they  are  the 
bluffs  skirting  the  beautiful  valley  of  the  Missouri. 
The  heights  from  which  this  view  is  commanded 
are  composed  principally  of  earth  heaped  upon  a 
massive  ledge  of  limerock,  which  elevates  itself 
from  the  very  bed  of  the  waters.  As  the  spectator 
gazes  and  reflects,  he  cannot  but  be  amazed  that  the 


THE    PAR   WEST.  181 

rains,  and  snows,  and  torrents  of  centuries  have  not, 
with  all  their  washings,  yet  swept  these  earth-heaps 
away,  though  the  deep  ravines  between  the  mounds, 
which  probably  originated  their  present  peculiar 
form,  give  proof  conclusive  that  such  diluvial  action 
to  some  extent  has  long  been  going  on.  As  is  usu- 
ally found  to  be  the  case,  the  present  race  of  Indians 
have  availed  themselves  of  these  elevated  summits 
for  the  burial-spots  of  their  chiefs.  I  myself  scraped 
up  a  few  decaying  fragments  of  bones,  which  lay 
just  beneath  the  surface. 

At  sunrise  of  the  morning  succeeding  my  visit 
to  the  bluffs  I  was  in  the  saddle,  and  clambering 
up  those  intolerably  steep  hills  on  the  road  leading 
to  the  village  of  Upper  Alton,  a  few  miles  distant 
The  place  is  well  situated  upon  an  elevated  prai- 
rie ;  and,  to  my  own  taste,  is  preferable  far  for  pri- 
vate residence  to  any  spot  within  the  precincts  of 
its  rival  namesake.  The  society  is  polished,  and  a 
fine-toned  morality  is  said  to  characterize  the  in- 
habitants. The  town  was  originally  incorporated 
many  years  ago,  and  was  then  a  place  of  more 
note  than  it  has  ever  since  been ;  but,  owing  to  in- 
testine broils  and  conflicting  claims  to  its  site,  it 
gradually  and  steadily  dwindled  away,  until,  a 
dozen  years  since,  it  numbered  only  seven  families. 
A  suit  in  chancery  has  happily  settled  these  diffi- 
culties, and  the  village  is  now  thriving  well.  A 
seminary  of  some  note,  under  jurisdiction  of  the 
Baptist  persuasion,  has  within  a  few  years  been 
established  here,  and  now  comprises  a  very  re- 
spectable body  of  students.  It  originated  in  a  sem- 

VOL.  I.— Q 


182  THE    FAR   WEST. 

inary  formerly  established  at  Rock  Spring  in  this 
state.  About  five  years  since  a  company  of  gen- 
tlemen, seven  in  number,  purchased  here  a  tract  of 
several  hundred  acres,  and  erected  upon  it  an  ac- 
ademical edifice  of  brick ;  subsequently  a  stone 
building  was  erected,  and  a  preparatory  school  in- 
stituted. In  the  year  1835,  funds  to  a  considerable 
amount  were  obtained  at  the  East ;  and  a  donation 
of  $10,000  from  Dr.  Benjamin  Shurtliff,  of  Boston, 
induced  the  trustees  to  give  to  the  institution  his 
name.  Half  of  this  sum  is  appropriated  to  a  col- 
lege building,  and  the  other  half  is  to  endow  a  pro- 
fessorship of  belles  lettres.  The  present  build- 
ings are  situated  upon  a  broad  plain,  beneath  a  wal- 
nut grove,  on  the  eastern  skirt  of  the  village  ;  and 
the  library,  apparatus,  and  professorships  are  wor- 
thy to  form  the  foundation  of  a  college,  as  is  the 
ultimate  design,  albeit  a  Western  college  and  a 
Northern  college  are  terms  quite  different  in  signi- 
fication. I  visited  this  seminary,  however,  and 
was  much  pleased  with  its  faculty,  buildings,  and 
design.  All  is  as  it  should  be.  What  reflecting 
mind  does  not  hail  with  joy  these  temples  of  science 
elevating  themselves  upon  every  green  hill  and 
broad  plain  of  the  West,  side  by  side  with  the 
sanctuaries  of  our  holy  religion  !  It  is  intelligence, 
baptized  intelligence,  which  alone  can  save  this 
beautiful  valley,  if  indeed  it  is  to  be  saved  from 
the  inroads  of  arbitrary  rule  and  false  religion  ; 
which  is  to  hand  down  to  another  generation  our 
civil  and  religious  immunities  unimpaired.  In  most 
of  the  efforts  for  the  advancement  of  education  in 


THE    FAR   WEST.  183 

the  West,  it  is  gratifying  to  perceive  that  this  prin- 
ciple has  not  been  overlooked.  Nearly  all  those 
seminaries  of  learning  which  have  been  established 
profess  for  their  design  the  culture  of  the  moral 
powers  as  well  as  those  of  the  intellect.  That  in- 
telligence is  an  essential  requisite,  a  prime  con- 
stituent of  civil  and  religious  freedom,  all  will  ad- 
mit ;  that  it  is  the  only  requisite,  the  sole  constitu- 
ent, may  be  questioned.  "  Knowledge,"  in  the 
celebrated  language  of  Francis  Bacon,  "  is  pow- 
er ;"  ay !  POWER  ;  an  engine  of  tremendous,  incal- 
culable -  nergy,  but  blind  in  its  operations.  Ap- 
plied to  the  cause  of  wisdom  and  virtue,  the  rich- 
est of  blessings  ;  to  that  of  infidelity  and  vice,  the 
greatest  of  curses.  A  lever  to  move  the  world,  its 
influence  cannot  be  over-estimated ;  as  the  bul- 
wark of  liberty  and  human  happiness,  its  effect  has 
been  fearfully  miscalculated.  Were  man  inclined 
as  fully  to  good  as  to  evil,  then  might  knowledge 
become  the  sovereign  panacea  of  every  civil  and 
moral  ill ;  as  man  by  nature  unhappily  is,  "  the 
fruit  of  the  tree"  is  oftener  the  stimulant  to  evil  than 
to  good.  Unfold  the  sacred  record  of  the  past 
Why  did  not  intelligence  save  Greece  ?  Greece ! 
the  land  of  intellect  and  of  thought;  the  birthspot 
of  eloquence,  philosophy,  and  song !  whose  very 
populace  were  critics  and  bards  !  Greece,  in  her 
early  day  of  pastoral  ignorance,  was  free  ;  but  from 
the  loftiest  pinnacle  of  intellectual  glory  she  fell ; 
and  science,  genius,  intelligence,  all  could  not  save 
her.  The  buoyant  bark  bounded  beautifully  over 
the  blue-breasted  billows ;  but  the  helm,  the  helm  of 


184  THE    FAR    WEST. 

moral  culture  was  not  there,  and  her  broad-spread 
pinions  hurried  her  away  only  to  a  speedier  and 
more  terrible  destruction. 

Ancient  Rome:  in  the  day  of  her  rough  simpli- 
city, she  was  free ;  but  from  her  proudest  point  of 
intellectual  development — the  era  of  Augustus — 
we  date  her  decline. 

France :  who  will  aver  that  it  was  popular  ig- 
norance that  rolled  over  revolutionary  France  the 
ocean-wave  of  blood  ?  When  have  the  French,  as 
a  people,  exhibited  a  prouder  era  of  mind  than  that 
of  their  sixteenth  Louis?  The  encyclopedists, 
the  most  powerful  men  of  the  age,  concentrated 
all  their  vast  energies  to  the  diffusion  of  science 
among  the  people.  Then,  as  now,  the  press 
groaned  in  constant  parturition  ;  and  essays,  mag- 
azines, tracts,  treatises,  libraries,  were  thrown 
abroad  as  if  by  the  arm  of  Omnipotent  power. 
Then,  as  now,  the  supremacy  of  human  reason 
and  of  human  society  flitted  in  "  unreal  mockery" 
before  the  intoxicated  fancy  j  and  wildly  was  an- 
ticipated a  career  of  upward  and  onward  advance- 
ment during  the  days  of  all  coming  time.  France 
was  a  nation  of  philosophers,  and  the  great  deep 
of  mind  began  to  heave;  the  convulsed  labouring 
went  on,  and,  from  time  to  time,  it  burst  out  upon 
the  surface.  Then  carne  the  tornado,  and  France, 
refined,  intelligent,  scientific,  etherealized  France, 
was  swept,  as  by  Ruin's  besom,  of  every  green 
thing.  Her  own  children  planted  the  dagger  in 
her  bosom,  and  France  was  a  nation  of  scientific^ 
philosophic  parricides  1  But  "  France  was  pois- 


THE    FAR    WEST,  185 

oned  by  infidelity."  Yes  !  so  she  was:  but  why 
was  not  the  subtle  element  neutralized  in  the  cup 
of  knowledge  in  which  it  was  administered?  Is 
not  "  knowledge  omnipotent  to  preserve  ;  the  salt 
to  purify  the  nations  ?" 

England:  view  the  experiment  there.  It  is  a 
matter  of  parliamentary  record,  that  within  the  last 
twenty  years,  during  the  philanthropic  efforts  of 
Lord  Henry  Brougham  and  his  whig  coadjutors, 
crime  in  England  has  more  than  tripled.  If  knowl- 
edge, pure,  defecated  knowledge,  be  a  conserva- 
tive principle,  why  do  we  witness  these  appalling 
results  ? 

What,  then,  shall  be  done  ?  Shall  the  book  of 
knowledge  be  taken  from  the  hands  of  the  peo- 
ple, and  again  be  locked  up  in  the  libraries  of  the 
few  ?  Shall  the  dusky  pall  of  ignorance  and  super- 
stition again  be  flung  around  the  world,  and  a  long 
starless  midnight  of  a  thousand  years  once  more 
come  down  to  brood  over  mankind  ?  By  no  means. 
Let  the  sweet  streams  of  knowledge  go  forth,  co- 
pious, free,  to  enrich  and  irrigate  the  garden  of 
mind ;  but  mingle  with  them  the  pure  waters  of 
that  "  fount  which  flows  fast  by  the  oracles  of  God," 
or  the  effect  now  will  be,  as  it  ever  has  been,  only 
to  intoxicate  and  madden  the  human  race.  There 
is  nothing  in  cold,  dephlegmated  intellect  to  warm 
up  and  foster  the  energies  of  the  moral  system  of 
man.  Intellect,  mere  intellect,  can  never  tame  the 
passions  or  purify  the  heart. 

Upper  Alton,  III. 

Q2 


186  THE    FAR    WEST, 


XVII. 

'*  The  fourth  day  roll'd  along,  and  with  the  night 
Came  storm  and  darkness  in  their  mingling  might. 
Loud  sung  the  wind  above  ;  and  doubly  loud 
Shook  o'er  his  turret-cell  the  thunder-cloud." 

The  C&rsair- 

"  These 

The  unshorn  fields,  boundless  and  beautiful, 
For  which  the  speech  of  England  has  no  name — 
The  prairies." 

BRYANT. 

WHOEVER  will  take  upon  himself  the  trouble  to 
run  his  eye  over  the  "  Tourist's  Pocket  Map  of  Il- 
linois," will  perceive,  stretching  along  the  western 
border  of  the  state,  parallel  with  the  river,  a  broad 
carriage  highway,  in  a  direction  nearly  north,  to  a 
little  village  called  Carlinville  ;  if  then  he  glances 
to  the  east,  he  may  trace  a  narrow  pathway  stri- 
king off  at  right  angles  to  that  section  of  the  state. 
Well,  it  is  here,  upon  this  pathway,  just  on  the 
margin  of  a  beautiful  prairie,  sweeping  away  to- 
wards the  town  of  Hillsborough,that  I  find  myself 
at  the  close  of  the  day,  after  a  long  and  fatiguing 
ride.  The  afternoon  has  been  one  of  those  drea- 
ry, drizzly,  disagreeable  seasons  which  relax  the 
nerves  and  ride  like  an  incubus  upon  the  spirits ; 
and  my  route  has  conducted  me  over  a  broad- 
spread,  desolate  plain ;  for,  lovely  as  may  appear  the 
prairie  when  its  bright  flowerets  and  its  tall  grass- 


THE    FAR    WEST.  187 

tops  are  nodding  in  the  sunlight,  it  is  a  melancholy 
place  when  the  sky  is  beclouded  and  the  rain  is 
falling.  There  is  a  certain  indescribable  sensation 
of  loneliness,  which  steals  over  the  mind  of  the  sol- 
itary traveller  when  he  finds  himself  alone  in  the 
heart  of  these  boundless  plains,  which  he  cannot 
away  with  ;  and  the  approach  to  a  forest  is  hailed 
with  pleasure,  as  serving  to  quiet,  with  the  vague 
idea  of  society,  this  sense  of  dreariness  and  deser- 
tion. Especially  is  this  the  case  when  rack  and 
mist  are  hovering  along  the  border,  veiling  from 
the  view  those  picturesque  woodland-points  and 
promontories,  and  those  green  island-groves  which, 
when  the  sky  is  clear,  swell  out  upon  every  side 
into  the  bosom  of  the  plain.  Then  all  is  fresh  and 
joyous  to  the  eye  as  a  vision:  change  the  scene, 
and  the  grand,  gloomy,  misty  magnificence  of  old 
ocean  presents  itself  on  every  side.  The  relief  to 
the  picture  afforded  by  the  discovery  of  man's 
habitation  can  hardly  be  described. 

It  was  near  nightfall  when,  wearied  by  the  fatigue 
of  riding  and  drenched  with  mist,  I  reached  the 
log-cabin  of  an  old  pioneer  from  Virginia,  beneath 
whose  lowly  roof-tree  I  am  seated  at  this  present 
writing ;  and  though  hardly  the  most  sumptuous 
edifice  of  which  it  has  been  my  lot  to  be  an  inmate, 
yet  with  no  unenviable  anticipations  am  I  looking 
forward  to  hearty  refreshment  and  to  sound  slumber 
upon  the  couch  by  my  side.  There  are  few  ob- 
jects to  be  met  with  in  the  backwoods  of  the  West 
more  unique  and  picturesque  than  the  dwelling  of 
the  emigrant.  After  selecting  an  elevated  spot  as 


188  THE    PAR  WEST. 

a  site  for  building,  a  cabin  or  a  log-house — which  is 
somewhat  of  an  improvement  upon  the  first — is 
erected  in  the  following  manner.  A  sufficient 
number  of  straight  trees,  of  a  size  convenient  for 
removing,  are  felled,  slightly  hewn  upon  the  oppo- 
site sides,  and  the  extremities  notched  or  mortised 
with  the  axe.  They  are  then  piled  upon  each 
other  so  that  the  extremities  lock  together ;  and  a 
single  or  double  edifice  is  constructed,  agreeable 
to  the  taste  or  ability  of  the  builder.  Ordinarily 
the  cabin  consists  of  two  quadrangular  apartments, 
separated  by  a  broad  area  between,  connected  by 
a  common  floor,  and  covered  by  a  common  roof, 
presenting  a  parallelogram  triple  the  length  of  its 
width.  The  better  of  these  apartments  is  usually 
appropriated  to  the  entertainment  of  the  casual 
guest,  and  is  furnished  with  several  beds  and  some 
articles  of  rude  furniture  to  correspond.  The  open 
area  constitutes  the  ordinary  sitting  and  eating 
apartment  of  the  family  in  fine  weather  ;  and,  from 
its  coolness,  affords  a  delightful  retreat.  The  in- 
tervals between  the  logs  are  stuffed  with  fragments 
of  wood  or  stone,  and  plastered  with  mud  or  mor- 
tar, and  the  chimney  is  constructed  much  in  the 
same  manner.  The  roof  is  covered  with  thin  clap- 
boards of  oak  or  ash,  and,  in  lieu  of  nails,  trans- 
verse pieces  of  timber  retain  them  in  their  places. 
Thousands  of  cabins  are  thus  constructed,  with- 
out a  particle  of  iron  or  even  a  common  plank. 
The  rough  clapboards  give  to  the  roof  almost  the 
shaggy  aspect  of  thatch  at  a  little  distance,  but  they 
render  it  impermeable  to  even  the  heaviest  and 


FAR    WEST.  189 

most  protracted  rain-storms.  A  rude  gallery  often 
extends  along  one  or  both  sides  of  the  building,  add- 
ing much  to  its  coolness  in  summer  and  to  its  warmth 
in  winter  by  the  protection  afforded  from  sun  and 
snow.  The  floor  is  constructed  of  short,  thick 
planks,  technically  termed  "  puncheons,"  which  are 
confined  by  wooden  pins ;  and,  though  hardly 
smooth  enough  for  a  ballroom,  yet  well  answer 
every  purpose  for  a  dwelling,  and  effectually  resist 
moisture  and  cold.  The  apertures  are  usually  cut 
with  a  view  to  free  ventilation,  and  the  chimneys 
stand  at  the  extremities  outside  the  walls  of  the 
cabin.  A  few  pounds  of  nails,  a  few  boxes  of  glass, 
a  few  hundred  feet  of  lumber,  and  a  few  day's  assist- 
ance of  a  house-carpenter,  would,  of  course,  contrib- 
ute not  a  little  to  the  comfort  of  the  shieling  ;  but 
neither  of  these  are  indispensable.  In  rear  of  the 
premises  rise  the  out-buildings;  stables,  corn-crib, 
meat-house,  &c.,  all  of  them  quite  as  perfect  in 
structure  as  the  dwelling  itself,  and  quite  as  com- 
fortable for  residence.  If  to  all  this  we  add  a  well, 
walled  up  with  a  section  of  a  hollow  cotton-wood,  a 
cellar  or  cave  in  the  earth  for  a  pantry,  a  zigzag 
rail  fence  enclosing  the  whole  clearing,  a  dozen 
acres  of  Indian  corn  bristling  up  beyond,  a  small 
garden  and  orchard,  and  a  host  of  swine,  cattle, 
poultry,  and  naked  children  about  the  door,  and 
the  tout  ensemble  of  a  backwoods  farmhouse  is  com- 
plete. Minor  circumstances  vary,  of  course,  with 
the  peculiarities  of  the  country  and  the  origin  of  the 
gettlers;  but  the  principal  features  of  the  picture 
everywhere  prevail.  The  present  mode  of  eulti- 


190  THE    FA.R    WEST. 

vation  sweeps  off  vast  quantities  of  timber;  but  it 
must  soon  be  superseded.  Houses  of  brick  and 
stone  will  take  the  place  of  log-cabins ;  hedgerows 
will  supply  that  of  rail  enclosures,  while  coal  for 
fuel  will  be  a  substitute  for  wood. 

At  Upper  Alton  my  visit  was  not  a  protracted 
one.  In  a  few  hours,  having  gathered  up  myfccens 
and  mounted  my  creelur,  I  was  threading  a  narrow 
pathway  through  the  forest.  The  trees,  most  of 
them  lofty  elms,  in  many  places  for  miles  locked 
together  their  giant  branches  over  the  road,  form- 
ing a  delightful  screen  from  the  sunbeams;  but  it 
was  found  by  no  means  the  easiest  imaginable 
task,  after  once  entering  upon  the  direct  route,  to 
continue  upon  it.  This  is  a  peculiarity  of  West- 
ern roads.  The  commencement  may  be  uniform 
enough,  but  the  traveller  soon  finds  his  path  di- 
verging all  at  once  in  several  different  direc- 
tions, like  the  radii  of  a  circle,  with  no  assignable 
cause  therefor,  and  not  the  slightest  reason  pre- 
senting itself  why  he  should  select  one  of  them  in 
preference  to  half  a  dozen  others,  equally  good  or 
bad.  And  the  sequel  often  shows  him  that  there 
in  reality  existed  no  more  cause  of  preference  than 
was  apparent ;  for,  after  a  few  tortuosities  through 
the  forest,  for  variety's  sake,  the  paths  all  terminate 
in  the  same  route.  The  obstacle  of  a  tree,  a  stump, 
a  decaying  log,  or  a  sand-bank  often  splits  the 
path  as  if  it  were  a  flowing  stream  ;  and  then  the 
traveller  takes  upon  him  to  exercise  the  reserved 
right  of  radiating  to  any  point  of  the  compass  ho 


THE    FAR  WEST.  191 

may  think  proper,  provided  always  that  he  suc- 
ceeds in  clearing  the  obstruction. 

Passing  many  log-cabins,  such  as  I  have  de- 
scribed, with  their  extensive  maize-fields,  the  rude 
dwelling  of  a  sturdy  old  emigrant  from  the  far  East 
sheltered  me  during  the  heat  of  noon;  and  having 
luxuriated  upon  an  excellent  dinner,  prepared  and 
served  up  in  right  New-England  fashion,  I  again 
betook  myself  to  my  solitary  route.  But  I  little 
anticipated  to  have  met,  in  the  distant  prairies  of 
Illinois,  the  habitation  of  one  who  had  passed  his  life 
in  my  own  native  state,  almost  in  my  own  native 
village.  Yet  1  know  not  why  the  occurrence 
should  be  a  cause  of  surprise.  Such  emigrations 
are  of  constant  occurrence.  The  farmer  had  been 
a  resident  eight  years  in  the  West ;  his  farm  was 
under  that  high  cultivation  characteristic  of  the 
Northern  emigrant,  and  peace  and  plenty  seemed 
smiling  around.  Yet  was  the  emigrant  satisfied  ? 
So  far  from  it,  he  acknowledged  himself  a  disap- 
pointed man,  and  sighed  for  his  native  northern 
home,  with  its  bleak  winds  and  barren  hill-sides. 

The  region  through  which,  for  most  of  the  day, 
I  journeyed  was  that,  of  very  extensive  application 
in  the  West,  styled  "  Barrens,"  by  no  means  im- 
plying unproductiveness  of  soil,  but  a  species  of 
surface  of  heterogeneous  character,  uniting  prairie 
with  timber  or  forest,  and  usually  a  description  of 
land  as  fertile,  healthy,  and  well-watered  as  may 
be  found.  The  misnomer  is  said  to  have  derived 
its  origin  from  the  eixrly  settlers  of  that  section  of 
Kentucky  south  of  Green  River,  which,  presenting 


192  THE    FAR  WEST. 

only  a  scanty,  dwarfish  growth  of  timber,  was 
deemed  of  necessity  barren,  in  the  true  acceptation 
of  the  term.  This  soil  there  and  elsewhere  is  now 
considered  better  adapted  to  every  variety  of  pro- 
duce and  the  vicissitudes  of  climate  than  even  the 
deep  mould  of  the  prairies  and  river-bottoms.  The 
rapidity  with  which  a  young  forest  springs  forward, 
when  the  annual  fires  have  once  been  stopped  in 
this  species  of  land,  is  said  to  be  astonishing  ;  and 
the  first  appearance  of  timber  upon  the  prairies 
gives  it  the  character,  to  some  extent,  of  barrens. 
Beneath  the  trees  is  spread  out  a  mossy  turf,  free 
from  thickets,  but  variegated  by  the  gaudy  petals 
of  the  heliotrope,  and  the  bright  crimson  buds  of 
the  dwarf-sumach  in  the  hollows.  Indeed,  some 
of  the  most  lovely  scenery  of  the  West  is  beheld 
in  the  landscapes  of  these  barrens  or  "  oak  open- 
ings," as  they  are  more  appropriately  styled.  For 
miles  the  traveller  wanders  on,  through  a  magnifi- 
cence of  park  scenery  on  every  side,  with  all  the 
diversity  of  the  slope,  and  swell,  and  meadow 
of  human  taste  and  skill.  Interminable  avenues 
stretch  away  farther  than  the  eye  can  reach,  while 
at  intervals  through  the  foliage  flashes  out  the  un- 
ruffled surface  of  a  pellucid  lake.  There  are  many 
of  these  circular  lakes  or  •'  sinkholes,"  as  they  are 
termed  in  Western  dialect,  which,  as  they  possess 
no  inlet,  seem  supplied  by  subterraneous  springs 
or  from  the  clouds.  The  outline  is  that  of  an  in- 
verted cone,  as  if  formed  by  the  action  of  whirling 
waters ;  and,  as  sinkholes  exist  in  great  numbers 
in  the  vicinity  of  the  rivers,  and  possess  an  outlet 


THE    FAR    WEST.  193 

at  the  bottom  through  a  substratum  of  porous  lime- 
stone, the  idea  is  abundantly  confirmed.  In  the 
State  of  Missouri  these  peculiar  springs  are  also  ob- 
served. Some  of  them  in  Greene  county  burst  forth 
from  the  earth  and  the  fissures  of  the  rocks  with 
sufficient  force  to  whirl  a  run  of  heavy  buhrstones, 
and  the  power  of  the  fountains  seems  unaffected  by 
the  vicissitudes  of  rain  or  drought.  These  same  sink- 
holes, circular  ponds,  and  gushing  springs  are  said 
to  constitute  one  of  the  most  remarkable  and  inter- 
esting features  of  the  peninsula  of  Florida.  There, 
as  here,  the  substratum  is  porous  limestone ;  and  it 
is  the  subsidence  of  the  layers  which  gives  birth 
to  the  springs.  The  volume  of  water  thrown  up 
by  these  boiling  fountains  is  said  to  be  astonishingly 
great ;  many  large  ones,  also,  are  known  to  exist 
in  the  beds  of  lakes  and  rivers.  From  the  circum- 
stance of  the  existence  of  these  numerous  springs 
originated,  doubtless,  the  tradition  which  Spanish 
chroniclers  aver  to  have  existed  among  the  Indians 
of  Porto  Rico  and  Cuba,  that  somewhere  among 
the  Lucayo  Islands  or  in  the  interior  of  Florida 
there  existed  a  fountain  whose  waters  had  the 
property  of  imparting  rejuvenescence  and  perpetua- 
ting perennial  youth.  Only  twenty  years  after  the 
discoveries  of  Columbus,  and  more  than  three  cen- 
turies since,  did  the  romantic  Juan  Ponce  de  Leon, 
an  associate  of  the  Genoese  and  subsequent  govern- 
or of  Porto  Rico,  explore  the  peninsula  of  Florida 
in  search  of  this  traditionary  fountain;  of  the 
success  of  the  enterprise  we  have  no  account. 
Among  the  other  poetic  founts  of  the  "Land  of 
VOL.  I.— R 


194  THE    FAR  WEST. 

Flowers,"  we  are  told  of  one,  situated  but  a  few 
miles  from  Fort  Gaines,  called  "Sappho's  Fount," 
from  the  idea  which  prevails  that  its  waters  impart 
the  power  of  producing  sweet  sounds  to  the  voices 
of  those  who  partake  of  them. 

It  was  near  evening,  when,  emerging  from  the 
shades  of  the  barrens,  which,  like  everything  else, 
however  beautiful,  had,  by  continuous  succession, 
begun  to  become  somewhat  monotonous,  my  path 
issued  rather  unexpectedly  upon  the  margin  of  a 
wide,  undulating  prairie.     I  was  struck,  as  is  every 
traveller  at  first  view  of  these  vast  plains,  with  the 
grandeur,  and  novelty,  and  loveliness  of  the  scene 
before  me.     For  some  moments  I  remained  station- 
ary, looking  out  upon  the  boundless  landscape  be- 
fore me.     The  tall  grass-tops  waving  in  billowy 
beauty  in  the  breeze  ;  the  narrow  pathway  wind- 
ing off  like  a  serpent  over  the  rolling  surface,  dis- 
appearing and  reappearing  till  lost  in  the  luxuriant 
herbage  ;  the  shadowy,  cloud-like  aspect  of  the  far- 
off  trees,  looming  up,  here  and  there,  in  isolated 
masses  along  the  horizon,  like  the  pyramidal  can- 
vass of  ships  at  sea  ;  the  deep-green  groves  be- 
sprinkled among  the  vegetation,  like  islets  in  the 
waters  ;   the  crimson-died  prairie-flower  flashing 
in  the   sun — these   features  of  inanimate  nature 
seemed  strangely  beautiful  to  one  born  and  bred 
amid  the  bold  mountain  scenery  of  the  North,  and 
who  now  gazed  upon  them  •*  for  the  first." 

"  The  prairies !  I  behold  them  for  the  first, 
And  my  heart  swells,  while  the  dilated  sight 
Takes  in  the  encircling  vastness." 


THE    FAR    WEST.  195 

As  I  rode  leisurely  along  upon  the  prairie's  edge, 
I  passed  many  noble  farms,  with  their  log-cabins 
couched  in  a  corner  beneath  the  forest ;  and,  verily, 
would  a  farmer  of  Yankee-land  "stare  and  gasp"  to 
behold  the  prairie  cornfield  of  the  Western  emi- 
grant ;  and  yet  more  would  he  be  amazed  to  wit- 
ness the  rank,  rustling  luxuriance  of  the  vegetable 
itself.  Descending  a  swell  of  the  prairie  near  one 
of  these  farms,  a  buck  with  his  doe  leaped  out  from  a 
thicket  beside  my  path,  and  away,  away  bounded 
the  "  happy  pair"  over  the  grass-tops,  free  as  the 
wind.  They  are  often  shot  upon  the  prairies,  I 
was  informed  by  an  old  hunter,  at  whose  cabin,  in 
the  middle  of  the  plain,  I  drew  up  at  twilight,  and 
with  whom  I  passed  the  night.  He  was  a  pioneer 
from  the  dark  and  bloody  ground,  and  many  a  time 
had  followed  the  wild  buck  through  those  aged 
forests,  where  Boone,  and  Whitley,  and  Kenton 
once  roved.  Only  fifty  years  ago,  and  for  the  first 
time  were  the  beautiful  fields  of  Kentucky  turned 
up  by  the  ploughshare  of  the  Virginia  emigrant; 
yet  their  very  descendants  of  the  first  generation 
we  behold  plunging  deeper  into  the  wilderness 
West.  How  would  the  worthy  old  Governor  Spots- 
wood  stand  astounded,  could  he  now  rear  his  vener- 
able bones  from  their  long  resting-place,  and  look 
forth  upon  this  lovely  land,  far  away  beyond  the 
Blue  Ridge  of  the  Alleghany  hills,  the  very  passage 
of  which  he  had  deemed  not  unworthy  "  the  horse- 
shoe of  gold"  and  "  the  order  tramontane."  "  Sic 
juvat  transcendere  monies."  Twenty  years  before 
Daniel  Boone,  "  backwoodsman  of  Kentucky,"  was 


196  THE    FAR    WEST. 

born,  Alexander  Spots  wood,  governor  of  Virginia, 
undertook,  with  great  preparation,  a  passage  of  the 
Alleghany  ridge.  For  this  expedition  were  provi- 
ded a  large  number  of  horseshoes,  an  article  not 
common  in  some  sections  of  the  "  Old  Dominion ;" 
and  from  this  circumstance,  upon  their  return, 
though  without  a  glimpse  of  the  Western  Valley, 
was  instituted  the  "  Tramontane  Order,  or  Knights 
of  the  Golden  Horseshoe"  with  the  motto  above. 
The  badge  of  distinction  for  having  made  a  passage 
of  the  Blue  Ridge  was  a  golden  horseshoe  worn 
upon  the  breast.  Could  the  young  man  of  that  day 
have  protracted  the  limits  of  life  but  a  few  years 
beyond  his  threescore  and  ten,  what  astonishment 
would  not  have  filled  him  to  behold  now,  as  "the 
broad,  the  bright,  the  glorious  West,"  the  region 
then  regarded  as  the  unknown  and  howling  wilder- 
ness beyond  the  mountains  !  Yet  even  thus  it  is. 

A  long  ride  over  a  dusty  road,  beneath  a  sultry 
sun,  made  me  not  unwilling  to  retire  to  an  early 
rest.  But  in  a  few  hours  my  slumbers  were  broken 
in  upon  by  the  glare  of  lightning  and  the  crash  of 
thunder.  For  nearly  five  weeks  had  the  prairies 
been  refreshed  by  not  a  solitary  shower  ;  and  the 
withered  crops  and  the  parched  soil,  baked  to  the 
consistency  of  stone  or  ground  up  to  powder,  be- 
trayed alarming  evidence  of  the  consequence.  Day 
had  succeeded  day.  The  scorching  sun  had  gone 
up  in  the  firmament,  blazed  from  his  meridian 
throne,  and  in  lurid  sultriness  descended  to  his  rest. 
The  subtle  fluid  had  been  gathering  and  con- 
centrating in  the  skies ;  and,  early  on  the  night  of 


THE    FAR  WEST.  197 

which  I  speak,  an  inky  cloud  had  been  perceived 
rolling  slowly  up  from  the  western  horizon,  until 
the  whole  heavens  were  enveloped  in  blackness. 
Then  the  tempest  burst  forth.  Peal  upon  peal  the 
hoarse  thunder  came  booming  over  the  prairies; 
and  the  red  lightning  would  glare,  and  stream,  and 
almost  hiss  along  the  midnight  sky,  like  Ossian's 
storm-spirit  riding  on  the  blast.  At  length  there 
was  a  hush  of  elements,  and  all  was  still — "still  as 
the  spirit's  silence ;"  then  came  one  prolonged,  deaf- 
ening, terrible  crash  and  rattle,  as  if  the  concave 
of  the  firmament  had  been  rent  asunder,  and  the 
splintered  fragments,  hurled  abroad,  were  flying 
through  the  boundlessness  of  space;  the  next  mo- 
ment, and  the  torrents  came  weltering  through  the 
darkness.  I  have  witnessed  thunder-storms  on  the 
deep,  and  many  a  one  among  the  cliffs  of  my  na- 
tive hills ;  but  a  midnight  thunder-gust  upon  the 
broad  prairie-plains  of  the  West  is  more  terrible 
than  they.  A  more  sublimely  magnificent  spec- 
tacle have  I  never  beheld  than  that,  when  one  of 
these  broad-sheeted  masses  of  purple  light  would 
blaze  along  the  black  bosom  of  the  cloud,  quiver 
for  an  instant  over  the  prairie  miles  in  extent,  fling- 
ing around  the  scene  a  garment  of  flame,  and  then 
go  out  in  darkness. 

"  Oh  night, 

And  storm,  and  darkness,  ye  are  wondrous  strong, 
Yet  lovely  in  your  strength,  as  is  the  light 
Of  a  dark  eye  in  woman  !" 

"  Most  glorious  night ! 
Thou  wert  not  sent  for  slumber  !  let  me  be 
A  sharer  in  thy  fierce  and  far  delight, 
A  portion  of  the  tempeit  and  of  thee  !" 

R2 


198  THE    FAR    WEST. 

And  a  sharer  in  the  tempest  surely  was  4<  a  cer- 
tain weary  pilgrim,  in  an  upper  chamber"  of  a  cer- 
tain log-cabin  of  the  prairie.  Unhappily  for  his 
repose  or  quiet,  had  he  desired  either,  the  worthy 
host,  in  laudable  zeal  for  a  window  when  erecting 
his  hut,  had  thought  proper  to  neglect  or  to  forget 
one  of  the  indispensables  for  such  a  convenience 
in  shape  of  sundry  panes  of  glass.  Wherefore,  as 
is  easy  to  perceive,  said  aperture  commanding 
the  right  flank  of  the  pilgrim's  dormitory,  the  war- 
ring elements  without  found  abundant  entrance 
for  a  by-skirmish  within.  Sad  to  relate,  the  pil- 
grim was  routed,  "  horse,  foot,  and  dragoons ;" 
whereupon,  agreeable  to  FalstafPs  discretionary 
views  of  valour,  seizing  upon  personal  effects,  he 
beat  a  retreat  to  more  hospitable  realms. 
.  Greene  County,  III. 


THE    FAR    WEST.  199 


XVIII. 

"  What  earthly  feeling  unabash'd  can  dwell 
In  Nature's  mighty  presence  1  mid  the  swell 
Of  everlasting  hills,  the  roar  of  floods, 
And  frown  of  rocks  and  pomp  of  waving  woods  1 
These  their  own  grandeur  on  the  soul  impress, 
And  bid  each  passion  feel  its  nothingness." 

HEMANS. 

"  La  grace  est  toujours  unie  a  la  magnificence,  dans  les  scenes 
de  la  nature." — CHATEAUBRIAND'S  "Atala." 

IT  was  morning.  The  storm  had  passed  away, 
and  the  early  sunlight  was  streaming  gloriously 
over  the  fresh  landscape.  The  atmosphere,  dis- 
charged of  its  electric  burden,  was  playing  cool  and 
free  among  the  grass-tops ;  the  lark  was  carolling 
in  the  clouds  above  its  grassy  nest ;  the  deer  was 
rising  from  his  sprinkled  lair,  and  the  morning 
mists  were  rolling  heavily  in  masses  along  the 
skirts  of  the  prairie  woodlands,  as  I  mounted  my 
horse  at  the  door  of  the  cabin  beneath  whose  roof 
I  had  passed  the  night.  Before  me  at  no  great 
distance,  upon  the  edge  of  the  plain,  rose  an  open 
park  of  lofty  oaks,  with  a  mossy  turf  beneath ;  and 
the  whole  scene,  lighted  up  by  the  sunbeams  break- 
ing through  the  ragged  mists,  presented  a  most 
gorgeous  spectacle.  The  entire  wilderness  of 
green ;  every  bough,  spray,  leaf;  every  blade  of 
grass,  wild  weed,  and  floweret,,  was  hung  with  trem- 


200  THE    FAR    WEST. 

bling  drops  of  liquid  light,  which,  reflecting  and 
refracting  the  sun-rays,  threw  back  all  the  hues  of 
the  iris.  It  was  indeed  a  morning  of  beauty  after 
the  tempest ;  and  Nature  seemed  to  have  arrayed 
herself  in  her  bridal  robes,  glittering  in  all  their 
own  matchless  jewellery  to  greet  its  coming. 

Constituted  as  we  all  naturally  are,  there  exist, 
bound  up  within  the  secresies  of  the  bosom,  certain 
emotions  and  sentiments,  designed  by  our  Creator 
to  leap  forth  in  joyousness  in  view  of  the  magnifi- 
cence of  his  works ;  certain  springs  of  exquisite 
delicacy  deep  hidden  in  the  chambers  of  the  breast, 
but  which,  touched  or  breathed  upon  never  so 
lightly,  strike  the  keys  of  feeling  and  fill  the  heart 
with  harmony.  And  I  envy  not  the  feelings  of 
that  man  who,  amid  all  "  the  glories  of  this  visible 
world,"  can  stand  a  passionless  beholder;  who 
feels  not  his  pulses  thrill  with  quickened  vibration, 
and  his  heart  to  heave  in  fuller  gush  as  he  views 
the  beneficence  of  his  Maker  in  the  magnificence 
of  his  works;  who  from  all  can  turn  calmly  away, 
and  in  the  chill,  withering  accents  of  Atheism, 
pronounce  it  the  offspring  of  blind  fatality,  the  re- 
sultant of  meaningless  chance  ! 

When  we  look  abroad  upon  the  panorama  of 
creation,  so  palpable  is  the  impress  of  an  omnipo- 
tent hand,  and  so  deeply  upon  all  its  features  is 
planted  the  demonstration  of  design,  that  it  would 
almost  seem,  in  the  absence  of  reason  and  revela- 
tion, we  need  but  contemplate  the  scenery  of  na<- 
ture  to  be  satisfied  of  the  existence  of  an  all-wise, 
all-powerful  Being,  whose  workmanship  it  is.  The 


THE    FAR   WEST.  201 

firmament,  with  its  marshalled  and  glittering  hosts ; 
the  earth,  spread  out  in  boundlessness  at  our  feet, 
now  draperied  in  the  verdant  freshness  of  spring- 
time, anon  in  the  magnificent  glories  of  summer 
sultriness,  again  teeming  with  the  mellow  beauty 
of  autumnal  harvesting,  and  then  slumbering  in  the 
chill,  cheerless  desolation  of  winter,  all  proclaim  a 
Deity  eternal  in  existence,  boundless  in  might. 
The  mountain  that  rears  its  bald  forehead  to  the 
clouds;  the  booming  cataract;  the  unfathomed, 
mysterious  sounding  ocean  ;  the  magnificent  sweep 
of  the  Western  prairie ;  the  eternal  flow  of  the 
Western  river,  proclaim,  in  tones  extensive  as  the 
universe — tones  not  to  be  misunderstood,  that  their 
CREATOR  lives. 

It  is  a  circumstance  in  the  character  of  the  human 
mind,  which  not  the  most  careless  or  casual  ob- 
server of  its  operations  can  fail  to  have  remarked, 
that  the  contemplation  of  all  grand  and  immeasu- 
rable objects  has  a  tendency  to  enlarge  and  elevate 
the  understanding,  lend  a  loftier  tone  to  the  feel- 
ings, and,  agreeable  to  the  moral  constitution  of 
man,  carry  up  his  thoughts  and  his  emotions  direct- 
ly to  their  Author,  "from  Nature  up  to  Nature's 
God."  The  savage  son  of  the  wilderness,  as  he 
roams  through  his  grand  and  gloomy  forests,  which 
for  centuries  have  veiled  the  soil  at  their  base  from 
the  sunlight,  perceives  a  solemn  awe  stealing  over 
him  as  he  listens  to  the  surges  of  the  winds  rolling 
among  the  heavy  branches ;  and  in  Nature's  sim- 
plicity, untaught  but  by  her  untutored  promptings, 
he  believes  that  "  the  Great  Spirit  is  whispering  ia 


202  THE    FAR    WEST. 

the  tree-tops."  He  stands  by  the  side  of  Niagara. 
With  subdued  emotions  he  gazes  upon  the  majestic 
world  of  floods  as  they  hurry  on.  They  reach  the 
barrier !  they  leap  its  precipice !  they  are  lost  in 
thunder  and  in  foam  !  And,  as  the  raging  waters 
disappear  in  the  black  abyss ;  as*  the  bow  of  the 
covenant,  "  like  hope  upon  a  deathbed,"  flings  its 
irised  arch  in  horrible  beauty  athwart  the  hell  of 
elements,  the  bewildered  child  of  nature  feels  his 
soul  swell  within  his  bosom ;  the  thought  rises  sol- 
emnly upon  him,  "the  Great  Spirit  is  here;"  and 
with  timid  solicitude  he  peers  through  the  forest 
shades  around  him  for  some  palpaple  demonstra- 
tion of  His  presence.  And  such  is  the  effect  of  all 
the  grand  scenes  of  nature  upon  the  mind  of  the  sav- 
age :  they  lead  it  up  to  the  "  Great  Spirit."  Upon 
this  principle  is  the  fact  alone  to  be  accounted  for, 
that  no  race  of  beings  has  yet  been  discovered  des- 
titute of  all  idea  of  a  Supreme  Intelligence,  to 
whom  is  due  homage  and  obedience.  It  is  His 
voice  they  hear  in  the  deep  hour  of  midnight,  when 
the  red  lightning  quivers  along  the  bosom  of  the 
cloud,  and  the  thunder-peal  rattles  through  the  fir- 
mament. It  is  He  they  recognise  in  the  bright  orb 
of  day,  as  he  blazes  from  the  eastern  horizon ;  or, 
"  like  a  monarch  on  a  funeral  pile,"  sinks  to  his 
rest.  He  is  beheld  in  the  pale  queen  of  night, 
as  in  silvery  radiance  she  walks  the  firmament,  and 
in  the  beautiful  star  of  evening  as  it  sinks  behind 
his  native  hills.  In  the  soft  breathing  of  the  "  sum- 
mer wind"  and  in  the  terrible  sublimity  of  the  au- 
tumn tempest;  in  the  gentle  dew  of  heaven  and 


THE    FAR   WEST.  203 

the  summer  torrent ;  in  the  sparkling  rivulet  and 
the  wide,  wild  river  ;  in  the  delicate  prairie- flower 
and  the  gnarled  monarch  of  the  hills ;  in  the  glit- 
tering minnow  and  the  massive  narwhal ;  in  the 
fairy  humbird  and  the  sweeping  eagle ;  in  each 
and  in  all  of  the  creations  of  universal  nature,  the 
mind  of  the  savage  sees,  feels,  realizes  the  presence 
of  a  Deity. 

"  Earth  with  her  thousand  voices  praises  God  !" 

is  the  beautiful  sentiment  of  Coleridge's  hymn  in 
the  Vale  of  Chamouni ;  and  its  truth  will  be  doubted 
by  no  man  of  refined  sensibility  or  cultivated  taste. 
In  viewing  the  grand  scenery  of  nature,  the  mind 
of  the  savage  and  the  poet  alike  perceive  the  fea- 
tures of  Deity  ;  on  the  bright  page  of  creation,  in 
characters  enstamped   by  his  own  mighty  handj 
they  read  his  perfections  and  his  attributes ;  the 
vast  volume  is  spread  out  to  every  eye ;  he  who 
will  may  read  and  be  wise.     And  yet,  delightful 
and  instructive  as  the  study  of  Nature's  creations 
cannot  fail  to  be,  it  is  a  strange  thing  that,  by  many, 
so  little  regard  is  betrayed  for  them.     How  often  do 
we  gaze  upon  the  orb  of  day,  as  he  goes  down  the 
western  heavens  in  glory  to  his  rest ;  how  often 
do  we  look  away  to  the  far-off  star,  as  it  pursues 
in  beauty  its  lonely  pathway,  distinct  amid  the 
myriads  that  surround  it;  how  often  do  we  glance 
abroad  upon  the  splendours  of  earth,  and  then, 
from  all  this  demonstration  of  Omnipotent  goodness, 
turn  away  with  not  one  pulsation  of  gratitude  to 
the  Creator  of  suns  and  stars ;  with  not  one  aspira- 
tion of  feeling,  one  acknowledgment  of  regard  to 


£04  THE    PAR    WEST. 

the  Lord  of  the  universe  ?  Yet  surely,  whatever 
•  repinings  may  at  times  imbitter  the  unsanctified  bo- 
som in  view  of  the  moral,  the  intellectual,  or  social 
arrangements  of  existence,  there  should  arise  but 
one  emotion,  and  that — praise  in  view  of  inanimate 
nature.  Here  is  naught  but  power  and  goodness ; 
now,  as  at  the  dawn  of  Creation's  morning,  "  all  is 
very  good."  But  these  are  scenes  upon  which  the 
eye  has  turned  from  earliest  infancy ;  and  to  this 
cause  alone  may  we  attribute  the  fact,  that  though 
their  grandeur  may  never  weary  or  their  glories 
pall  upon  the  sense,  yet  our  gaze  upon  them  is  often 
that  of  coldness  and  indifferent  regard.  Still  their 
influence  upon  us,  though  inappreciable,  is  sure. 
If  we  look  abroad  upon  the  race  of  man,  we  cannot 
but  admit  the  conviction  that  natural  scenery,  hard- 
ly less  than  climate,  government,  or  religion,  lays 
its  impress  upon  human  character.  It  is  where  Na- 
ture exhibits  herself  in  her  loftiest  moods  that  her 
influence  on  man  is  most  observable.  'Tis  there 
we  find  the  human  mind  most  chainlessly  free, 
and  the  attachments  of  patriotic  feeling  most  tena- 
cious and  exalted.  To  what  influence  more  than 
to  that  of  the  gigantic  features  of  nature  around 
him,  amid  which  he  first  opened  his  eyes  to  the 
light,  and  with  which  from  boyhood  days  he  has 
been  conversant,  are  we  to  attribute  that  indomi- 
table hate  to  oppression,  that  enthusiastic  passion 
for  liberty,  and  that  wild  idolatry  of  country  which 
characterizes  the  Swiss  mountaineer?  He  would 
be  free  as  the  geyer-eagle  of  his  native  cliffs,  whose 
eyrie  hangs  in  the  clouds,  whose  eye  brightens  in 


THE    FAR    WEST.  205 

the  sunlight,  whose  wild  shriek  rises  on  the  tem- 
pest, and  whose  fierce  brood  is  nurtured  amid  crags 
untrodden  by  the  footstep  of  man.  To  his  ear  the 
sweep  of  the  terrible  lauwine,  the  dash  of  the 
mountain  cataract,  the  sullen  roar  of  the  mountain 
forest,  is  a  music  for  which,  in  a  foreign  land,  he 
pines  away  and  dies.  And  all  these  scenes  have 
but  one  language — and  that  is  chainless  independ- 
ence I 

It  is  a  fact  well  established,  and  one  to  be  ac- 
counted for  upon  no  principle  other  than  that 
which  we  advance,  that  the  dwellers  in  mountain- 
ous regions,  and  those  whose  homes  are  amid  the 
grandeur  of  nature,  are  found  to  be  more  attached 
to  the  spot  of  their  nativity  than  are  other  races  of 
men,  and  that  they  are  ever  more  forward  to  defend 
their  ice-clad  precipices  from  the  attack  of  the  in- 
vader. For  centuries  have  the  Swiss  inhabited 
the  mountains  of  the  Alps.  They  inhabit  them 
still,  and  have  never  been  entirely  subdued.  But 

"  The  free  Switzer  yet  bestrides  alone 
His  chainless  mountains." 

Of  what  other  nation  of  Europe,  if  we  except 
the  Highlands  of  Scotland,  may  anything  like  the 
same  assertion  with  truth  be  made  ?  We  are  told 
that  the  mountains  of  Caucasus  and  Himmalaya,  in 
Asia,  still  retain  the  race  of  people  which  from 
time  immemorial  have  possessed  them.  The  same 
accents  echo  along  their  "  tuneful  cliffs"  as  centuries 
since  were  listened  to  by  the  patriarchs ;  while  at 
their  base,  chance,  and  change,  and  conquest,  like 
successive  floods,  have  swept  the  delta-plains  of 

VOL.  I.— S 


206  THE    FAR    WEST. 

the  Ganges  and  Euphrates.  These  are  but  iso- 
lated instances  from  a  multitude  of  similar  char- 
acter, which  might  be  advanced  in  support  of  the 
position  we  have  assumed.  Nor  is  it  strange  that 
peculiarities  like  these  should  be  witnessed.  There 
must  ever  be  something  to  love,  if  the  emotion 
is  to  be  permanently  called  forth  ;  it  matters  little 
whether  it  be  in  the  features  of  inanimate  nature 
or  in  those  of  man ;  and,  alike  in  both  cases,  do  the 
boldest  and  most  prominent  create  the  deepest  im- 
pression. Just  so  it  is  with  our  admiration  of  char- 
acter; there  must  exist  bold  and  distinctive  traits, 
good  or  bad,  to  arouse  for  it  unusual  regard.  A 
monotony  of  character  or  of  feeling  is  as  weari- 
some as  a  monotony  of  sound  or  scenery. 

But  to  return  from  a  digression  which  has  be- 
come unconscionably  long.  After  a  brisk  gallop 
of  a  few  hours  through  the  delightful  scenery  of 
the  Barrens,  I  found  myself  approaching  the  little 
town  of  Carlinville.  As  I  drew  nigh  to  the  village, 
I  found  it  absolutely  reeling  under  the  excitement 
of  the  "  Grand  Menagerie."  From  all  points  of  the 
compass,  men,  women,  and  children,  emerging  from 
the  forest,  came  pouring  into  the  place,  some  upon 
horses,  some  in  farm-wagons,  and  troops  of  other 
some  on  foot,  slipping  and  sliding  along  in  a  fashion 
most  distressing  to  behold.  The  soil  in  this  vicinity 
is  a  black  loam  of  surpassing  fertility ;  and,  when 
saturated  with  moisture,  it  adheres  to  the  sole  with 
most  pertinacious  tenacity,  more  like  to  an  amalgam 
of  soot  and  soap-grease  than  to  any  other  substance 
that  has  ever  come  under  my  cognizance.  The  inn 


THE    FAR    WEST.  207 

was  thronged  by  neighbouring  farmers,  some  can- 
vassing the  relative  and  individual  merits  of  the 
Zebedee  and  the  Portimous ;  others  sagely  dwelling 
upon  the  mooted  point  of  peril  to  be  apprehended 
from  the  great  sarpent — Boy  Contractor;  while 
little  unwashen  wights  did  run  about  and  danger- 
ously prophecy  on  the  recent  disappearance  of  the 
big  elephant. 

Carlinville  is  a  considerable  village,  situated  on 
the  margin  of  a  pleasant  prairie,  on  the  north  side 
of  Macoupin  Creek,  and  is  the  seat  of  justice  for  the 
county.  The  name  Macoupin  is  said  to  be  of  abori- 
ginal derivation,  and  by  the  early  French  chroni- 
clers was  spelled  and  pronounced  Ma-qua~pin,  until 
its  present  uncomely  combination  of  letters  became 
legalized  on  the  statute-book.  The  term,  we  are 
told  by  Charlevoix,  the  French  voyageur,  is  the  In- 
dian name  of  an  esculent  with  a  broad  corolla, 
found  in  many  of  the  ponds  and  creeks  of  Illinois, 
especially  along  the  course  of  the  romantic  stream 
bearing  its  name.  The  larger  roots,  eaten  raw, 
were  poisonous,  and  the  natives  were  accus- 
tomed to  dig  ovens  in  the  earth,  into  which,  being 
walled  up  with  flat  stones  and  heated,  was  deposited 
the  vegetable.  After  remaining  for  forty- eight 
hours  in  this  situation,  the  deleterious  qualities 
were  found  extracted,  and  the  root  being  dried, 
was  esteemed  a  luxury  by  the  Indians.  The  re- 
gion bordering  upon  Carlinville  is  amazingly  fer- 
tile, and  proportionally  divided  into  prairie  and 
timber — a  circumstance  by  no  means  unworthy  of 
notice.  There  has  been  a  design  of  establishing 


208  THE   FAR   WEST. 

here  a  Theological  Seminary,  but  the  question  of 
its  site  has  been  a  point  easier  to  discuss  than 
to  decide.  My  tarry  at  the  village  was  a  brief  one* 
though  I  became  acquainted  with  a  number  of  its 
•worthy  citizens ;  and  in  the  log-office  of  a  young 
limb  of  legality,  obtained,  as  a  special  distinction,  a 
glance  at  a  forthcoming  "  Fourth-of- July"  oration, 
fruitful  in  those  sonorous  periods  and  stereotyped 
patriotics  indispensable  on  such  occasions,  and,  at 
all  hazard,  made  and  provided  for  them.  As  I  was 
leaving  the  village  I  was  met  by  multitudes,  pour- 
ing in  from  all  sections  of  the  surrounding  region, 
literally  thronging  the  ways  ;  mothers  on  horse- 
back, with  young  children  in  their  arms ;  fathers 
with  daughters  and  wives  en  croupe,  and  at  inter- 
vals an  individual,  in  quiet  possession  of  an  entire 
animal,  came  sliding  along  in  the  mud,  in  fashion 
marvellously  entertaining  to  witness.  A  huge  cart 
there  likewise  was,  which  excited  no  small  degree 
of  admiration  as  it  rolled  on,  swarmed  with  women 
and  children.  An  aged  patriarch,  with  hoary  locks 
resting  upon  his  shoulders,  enacted  the  part  of  char- 
ioteer to  this  primitive  establishment ;  and  now,  in 
zealous  impatience  to  reach  the  scene  of  action, 
from  which  the  braying  horns  came  resounding 
loud  and  clear  through  the  forest,  he  was  wretch- 
edly belabouring,  by  means  of  an  endless  whip,  six 
unhappy  oxen  to  augment  their  speed. 

I  had  travelled  not  many  miles  when  a  black 
cloud  spread  itself  rapidly  over  the  sky,  and  in  a 
few  moments  the  thunder  began  to  bellow,  the 
lightnings  to  flash,  and  the  rain  to  fall  in  torrents* 


THE    FAR    WEST.  209 

Luckily  enough  for  me,  I  found  myself  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  man's  habitation.  Leaping  hastily 
from  my  steed,  and  lending  him  an  impetus  with 
my  riding-whip  which  carried  him  safely  beneath 
a  hospitable  shed  which  stood  thereby,  I  betook 
myself,  without  ceremony  or  delay,  to  the  mansion 
house  itself,  glad  enough  to  find  its  roof  above  me 
as  the  first  big  rain-drops  came  splashing  to  the 
ground.  The  little  edifice  was  tenanted  by  three 
females  and  divers  flaxen-pated,  sun-bleached  ur- 
chins of  all  ages  and  sizes,  and,  at  the  moment  of 
my  entrance,  all  in  high  dudgeon,  because,  forsooth, 
they  were  not  to  be  permitted  to  drench  themselves 
in  the  anticipated  shower.  Like  Noah's  dove,  they 
were  accordingly  pulled  within  the  ark,  and  there- 
upon thought  proper  to  set  up  their  several  and 
collective  Ebenezers. 

"Well!"  was  my  exclamation,  in  true  Yankee 
fashion,  as  I  bowed  my  head  low  in  entering  the 
humble  postern  ;  "  we're  going  to  get  pretty  con- 
siderable of  a  sprinkling,  I  guess."  "  I  reckon," 
was  the  sententious  response  of  the  most  motherly- 
seeming  of  the  three  women,  at  the  same  time  vo- 
ciferating to  the  three  larger  of  the  children,  "  Oh, 
there,  you  Bill,  Sail,  Polly,  honeys,  get  the  gentle- 
man a  cheer  !  Walk  in,  sir  ;  set  down  and  take 
a  seat  I"  This  evolution  of"  setting  down  and  ta- 
king a  seat"  was  at  length  successfully  effected, 
after  sundry  manoeuvrings  by  way  of  planting  the 
three  pedestals  of  the  uncouth  tripod  upon  the  same 
plane,  and  avoiding  the  fearful  yawnings  in  the 
puncheon  floor.  When  all  was  at  length  quiet,  I 


210  THE    FAR  WEST. 

improved  the  opportunity  of  gazing  about  me  to 
explore  the  curious  habitation  into  which  I  found 
myself  inserted. 

The  structure,  about  twenty  feet  square,  had 
originally  been  constructed  of  rough  logs,  the  inter- 
stices stuffed  with  fragments  of  wood  and  stone,  and 
daubed  with  clay  ;  the  chimney  was  built  up  of 
sticks  laid  crosswise,  and  plastered  with  the  same 
material  to  resist  the  fire.  Such  had  been  the  back- 
woodsman's cabin  xi  its  primitive  prime  ;  but  time 
and  the  elements  had  been  busy  with  the  little  edi- 
fice, and  sadly  had  it  suffered.  Window  or  case- 
ment was  there  none,  neither  was  there  need  thereof; 
for  the  hingeless  door  stood  ever  open,  the  clay  was 
disappearing  from  the  intervals  between  the  logs, 
and  the  huge  fireplace  of  stone  exhibited  yawning 
apertures,  abundantly  sufficient  for  all  the  purposes 
of  light  and  ventilation  to  the  single  apartment  of 
the  building.  The  puncheon  floor  I  have  alluded 
to,  and  it  corresponded  well  with  the  roof  of  the 
cabin,  which  had  never,  in  its  best  estate,  been  de- 
signed to  resist  the  peltings  of  such  a  pitiless  tor- 
rent as  was  now  assailing  it.  The  water  soon  be- 
gan trickling  in  little  rivulets  upon  my  shoulders, 
and  my  only  alternative  was  my  umbrella  for  shel- 
ter. The  furniture  of  the  apartment  consisted  of 
two  plank-erections  designed  for  bedsteads,  which, 
with  a  tall  clothes-press,  divers  rude  boxes,  and  a 
side-saddle,  occupied  a  better  moiety  of  the  area ; 
while  a  rough  table,  a  shelf  against  the  wall,  upon 
which  stood  a  water- pail,  a  gourd,  and  a  few  broken 
trenchers,  completed  the  household  paraphernalia 


THE    FAR    WEST.  211 

of  this  most  unique  of  habitations.  A  half-con- 
sumed flitch  of  bacon  suspended  in  the  chimney, 
and  a  huge  iron  pot  upon  the  fire,  from  which 
issued  a  savoury  indication  of  the  seething  mess 
within,  completes  the  "still-life"  of  the  picture. 
Upon  one  of  the  beds  reclined  one  of  the  females 
to  avoid  the  rain  ;  a  second  was  alternating  her  at- 
tentions between  her  infant  and  her  needle  ;  while 
the  third,  a  buxom  young  baggage,  who,  by-the-by, 
was  on  a  visit  to  her  sister,  was  busying  herself  in 
the  culinary  occupations  of  the  household,  much 
the  chief  portion  of  which  consisted  in  watching 
the  huge  dinner- pot  aforesaid,  with  its  savoury  con- 
tents. 

After  remaining  nearly  two  hours  in  the  cabin, 
in  hopes  that  the  storm  would  abate,  I  concluded 
that,  since  my  umbrella  was  no  sinecure  within 
doors,  it  might  as  well  be  put  in  requisition  without, 
and  mounted  my  steed,  though  the  rain  was  yet 
falling.  I  had  proceeded  but  a  few  miles  upon  the 
muddy  pathway  when  my  compass  informed  me 
that  I  had  varied  from  my  route,  a  circumstance 
by  no  means  uncommon  on  the  Western  prairies. 
During  the  whole  afternoon,  therefore,  I  continued 
upon  my  way  across  a  broad,  pathless  prairie, 
some  twelve  or  eighteen  miles  in  extent,  and  dreary 
enough  withal,  until  nightfall,  when  I  rejoiced  to 
find  myself  the  inmate  of  the  comfortable  farm- 
house upon  its  edge  from  which  my  last  was  dated. 

Hillsboroughj  III. 


212  THE    FAR   WEST, 


XIX. 

"  Skies  softly  beautiful,  and  blue 

As  Italy's,  with  stars  as  bright ; 
Flowers  rich  as  morning's  sunrise  hue, 

And  gorgeous  as  the  gemm'd  midnight. 
Land  of  the  West !  green  Forest  Land, 
Thus  hath  Creation's  bounteous  hand 
Upon  thine  ample  bosom  flung 

Charms  such  as  were  her  gift  when  the  green  world  was 
young !"  GALLAGHER. 

"  Go  thou  to  the  house  of  prayer, 
I  to  the  woodlands  will  repair." 

KIRKE  WHITE. 

"  There  is  religion  in  a  flower  ; 
Its  still  small  voice  is  as  the  voice  of  conscience." 

BELL. 

MORE  than  three  centuries  ago,  when  the  ro- 
mantic Ponce  de  Leon,  with  his  chivalrous  follow- 
ers, first  planted  foot  upon  the  southern  extremity 
of  the  great  Western  Valley,  the  discovery  of  the 
far-famed  "  Fountain  of  Youth"  was  the  wild  vision 
which  lured  him  on.  Though  disappointed  in  the 
object  of  his  enterprise,  the  adventurous  Spaniard 
was  enraptured  with  the  loveliness  of  a  land  which 
even  the  golden  realms  of  "  Old  Castile  had  never 
realized ;  and  Florida*  "  the  Land  of  Flowers," 
was  the  poetic  name  it  inspired.  Twenty  years, 
and  the  bold  soldier  Ferdinand  de  Soto,  of  Cuba, 

*  Others  say  the  peninsula  was  discovered  on  Easter-day  ;  Pas- 
qua  deflores,  feast  of  flowers  ;  whence  the  name. 


THE    FAR   WEST.  213 

the  associate  of  Pizarro,  with  a  thousand  steel- 
clad  warriors  at  his  back,  penetrated  the  val- 
ley to  the  far-distant  post  of  Arkansas,  and  "  El 
padre  de  los  aguas"  was  the  expressive  name  of 
the  mighty  stream  he  discovered,  beneath  the  eter- 
nal flow  of  whose  surges  he  laid  his  bones  to  their 
rest.*  "  La  Belle  Riviere  /"  was  the  delighted  ex- 
clamation which  burst  from  the  lips  of  the  Cana- 
dian voyageur,  as,  with  wonder  hourly  increas- 
ing, he  glided  in  his  light  pirogue  between  the 
swelling  bluffs,  and  wound  among  the  thousand 
isles  of  the  beautiful  Ohio.  The  heroic  Norman, 
Sieur  La  Salle,  when  for  the  first  time  he  beheld 
the  pleasant  hunting-grounds  of  the  peaceful  Illini, 
pronounced  them  a  "Terrestrial  Paradise."  Dan- 
iel Boone,  the  bold  pioneer  of  the  West,  fifty  years 
ago,  when  standing  on  the  last  blue  line  of  the  Al- 
leghanies,  and  at  the  close  of  a  day  of  weary  jour- 
neying, he  looked  down  upon  the  beautiful  fields  of 
"  Old  Kentucke,"  now  gilded  by  the  evening  sun, 
turned  his  back  for  ever  upon  the  green  banks  of 
the  Yadkin  and  the  soil  of  his  nativity,  hailing  the 
glories  of  a  new-found  home. 

"  Fair  wert  thou,  in  the  dreams 
Of  elder  time,  thou  land  of  glorious  flowers, 
And  summer  winds,  and  low-toned  silvery  streams, 
Dim  with  the  shadows  of  thy  laurel  bowers." 

And  thus  has  it  ever  been  ;  and  even  yet  the  "  pil- 
grim from  the  North"  rejoices  with  untold  joy  over 
the  golden  beauties  of  the  Valley  beyond  the 
Mountains. 

*  See  Appendix. 


214  THE    FAR   WEST. 

It  was  a  fine  Sabbath  morning  when  I  mounted 
my  steed  at  the  gate  of  the  log  farmhouse  where  I 
had  passed  the  night,  to  pursue  my  journey  over 
the  prairie,  upon  the  verge  of  which  it  stood.  The 
village  of  Hillsborough  was  but  a  few  miles  dis- 
tant, and  there  I  had  resolved  to  observe  the  sa- 
credness  of  the  day.  The  showers  of  the  prece- 
ding evening  had  refreshed  the  atmosphere,  which 
danced  over  the  plain  in  exhilarating  gales,  and 
rustled  among  the  boughs  of  the  green  woodlands 
I  was  leaving.  Before  me  was  spread  out  a  wa- 
ving, undulating  landscape,  with  herds  of  cattle 
sprinkled  here  and  there  in  isolated  masses  over 
the  surface ;  the  rabbit  and  wildfowl  were  sporting 
along  the  pathway,  and  the  bright  woodpecker, 
with  his  splendid  plumage  and  querulous  note, 
was  flitting  to  and  fro  among  the  thickets.  Far 
away  along  the  eastern  horizon  stretched  the  dark 
line  of  forest.  The  gorgeous  prairie-flower  flung 
out  its  crimson  petals  upon  the  breeze,  "  blushing 
like  a  banner  bathed  in  slaughter,"  and  methought 
it  snapped  more  gayly  in  the  morning  sunbeams 
than  it  was  wont ;  the  long  grass  rustled  musically 
its  wavy  masses  back  and  forth,  and,  amid  the  Sab- 
bath stillness  around,  methought  there  were  there 
notes  of  sweetness  not  before  observed.  The 
whole  scene  lay  calm  and  quiet,  as  if  Nature, 
if  not  man,  recognised  the  Divine  injunction  to 
rest ;  and  the  idea  suggested  itself,  that  a  solitary 
Sabbath  on  the  wild  prairie,  in  silent  converse  with 
the  Almighty,  might  not  be  all  unprofitable. 


THE    FAR    WEST.  215 

"  Sweet  day,  so  cool,  so  calm,  so  bright, 

The  bridal  of  the  earth  and  sky, 
Sweet  dews  shall  weep  thy  fall  to-night, 
For  thou  must  die."* 

From  the  centre  of  the  prairie  the  landscape 
rolled  gracefully  away  towards  the  eastern  timber, 
studded  along  its  edge  with  farms.  The  retrospect 
from  beneath  the  tall  oaks  of  the  prairie  over  which 
I  had  passed  was  exceedingly  fine;  the  idea  strikes 
the  spectator  at  once,  and  with  much  force,  that 
the  whole  plain  was  once  a  sheet  of  water.  In- 
deed, were  we  to  form  our  opinion  from  the  ap- 
pearance of  many  of  the  prairies  of  Illinois,  the 
idea  would  be  irresistible,  that  this  peculiar  spe- 
cies of  surface  originated  in  a  submersion  of  the 
whole  state.  There  are  many  circumstances  which 
lead  us  to  the  conclusion  that  these  vast  meadows 
once  formed  the  bed  of  a  body  of  water  similar  to 
the  Northern  lakes ;  and,  when  the  lowest  point  at 
the  Grand  Tower  on  the  Mississippi  was  torn  away 
by  some  convulsion  of  nature,  a  uniform  surface 
of  fine  rich  mud  was  left.  The  ravines  were 
ploughed  in  the  soft  soil  by  subsequent  floods, 
and  hence,  while  the  elevated  lands  are  fertile, 
those  more  depressed  are  far  less  so.  The  soil  of 
the  prairies  is  of  a  character  decidedly  alluvial, 
being  composed  of  compact  strata  of  loam  piled 
upon  each  other,  like  that  at  the  bottom  of  bodies 
of  water  long  stagnant.  The  first  stratum  is  a 
black,  pliable  mould,  from  two  feet  to  five  in  depth ; 
the  second  a  red  clay,  amalgamated  with  sand,  from 

*  George  Herbert. 


216  THE    FAR    WEST. 

five  to  ten  feet  in  thickness ;  the  third  a  blue  clay, 
mixed  with  pebbles,  of  beautiful  appearance,  unc- 
tuous to  the  feeling,  and,  when  exposed  to  the  at- 
mosphere, of  a  fetid  smell.  Lakes  are  often  found 
in  the  prairies  abounding  in  fish,  which,  when  the 
waters  subside,  are  removed  by  cartloads.  The 
origin  of  these  vast  prairie-plains  is,  after  all,  no 
easy  matter  to  decide ;  but,  whatever  the  cause, 
they  have  doubtless  been  perpetuated  by  the  au- 
tumnal fires  which,  year  after  year,  from  an  era 
which  the  earliest  chronicles  of  history  or  tradition 
have  failed  to  record,  have  swept  their  surface  ;  for, 
as  soon  as  the  grass  is  destroyed  by  the  plough, 
the  winged  seeds  of  the  cotton- wood  and  sycamore 
take  root,  and  a  young  growth  of  timber  sprouts 
forth.  The  same  is  true  along  the  margin  of 
creeks  and  streams,  or  upon  steril  or  wet  prai- 
ries, where  the  vegetation  does  not  become  suffi- 
ciently heavy  or  combustible  for  conflagration  to 
a  great  extent.  These  fires  originated  either  in 
the  friction  of  the  sear  and  tinder-like  underbrush, 
agitated  by  the  high  winds,  or  they  were  kindled 
by  the  Indians  for  the  purpose  of  dislodging  game. 
The  mode  of  hunting  by  circular  fires  is  said  to 
have  prevailed  at  the  time  when  Captain  Smith 
first  visited  the  shores  of  Chesapeake  Bay,  where 
extensive  prairies  then  existed.  These  plains,  by 
cultivation,  have  long  since  disappeared.  Mungo 
Park  describes  the  annual  fires  upon  the  plains  of 
Western  Africa  for  a  similar  purpose  and  with 
the  same  result.  Tracts  of  considerable  extent  in 


THE    FAR    WEST.  217 

the  older  settlements  of  the  country,  which  many 
years  since  were  meadow,  are  clothed  with  forest. 

"  Coot  morning,  shur  !  A  pleashant  tay,  shur  ! 
Coome  in,  shur  !"  was  the  hospitable  greeting  of 
mine  host,  or  rather  of  the  major  domo  of  the  little 
brick  hostelrie  of  Hillsborough  as  I  drove  up  to 
the  bar-room  entrance.  He  was  a  comical-looking, 
bottle-shaped  little  personage,  with  a  jolly  red  nose, 
all  the  brighter,  doubtless,  for  certain  goodly  pota- 
tions of  his  own  goodly  admixtures ;  with  a  brief 
brace  of  legs,  inserted  into  a  pair  of  inexpressibles 
a  la  Turque,  a  world  too  big,  and  a  white  capote 
a  world  too  little,  to  complete  the  Sunday  toilet. 
He  could  boast,  moreover,  that  amazing  lubricity 
of  speech,  and  that  oiliness  of  tongue  wherewith 
sinful  publicans  have  ever  been  prone  to  beguile 
unwary  wayfarers,  taking  in  travellers,  forsooth ! 
Before  I  was  fully  aware  of  the  change  in  my  cir- 
cumstances, I  found  myself  quietly  dispossessed  of 
horse  and  equipments,  and  placing  my  foot  across 
the  threshold.  The  fleshy  little  Dutchman,  though 
now  secure  in  his  capture,  proceeded  to  redouble 
his  assiduities. 

"Anything  to  trink,  shur?  Plack  your  poots, 
shur  ?  shave  your  face,  shur  ?"  and  a  host  of  far- 
ther interrogatories,  which  I  at  length  contrived  to 
cut  short  with,  "  Show  me  a  chamber,  sir !" 

The  Presbyterian  Church,  at  which  I  attended 
worship,  is  a  neat  little  edifice  of  brick,  in  modern 
style,  but  not  completed.  The  walls  remained  un- 
conscious of  plaster ;  the  orchestra,  a  naked  scaf- 
folding ;  the  pulpit,  a  box  of  rough  boards ;  and, 

VOL.  I.—T 


218  THE   FAR  WEST. 

more  picturesque  than  all,  in  lieu  of  pews,  slips,  or 
any  such  thing,  a  few  coarse  slabs  of  all  forms  and 
fashions,  supported  on  remnants  of  timber  and 
plank,  occupied  the  open  area  for  seats.  And 
marvellously  comfortless  are  such  seats,  to  my  cer- 
tain experience.  In  the  evening  I  attended  the 
"  Luteran  Church,"  as  my  major  domo  styled  it, 
at  the  special  instance  of  one  of  its  worthy  mem- 
bers. This  house  of  worship  is  designed  for  a 
large  one — the  largest  in  the  state,  I  was  informed 
— but,  like  its  neighbour,  was  as  yet  but  com- 
menced. The  external  walls  were  quite  complete  ; 
but  the  rafters,  beams,  studs,  and  braces  within 
presented  a  mere  skeleton,  while  a  few  loose 
boards,  which  sprang  and  creaked  beneath  the  foot, 
were  spread  over  the  sleepers  as  an  apology  for  a 
floor.  There's  practical  utility  for  an  economist ! 
Because  a  church  is  unfinished  is  no  good  and  suf- 
ficient reason  why  it  should  remain  unoccupied ! 

As  we  entered  the  building,  my  cicerone  very 
unexpectedly  favoured  me  with  an  introduction  to 
the  minister.  He  was  a  dark,  solemn-looking  man, 
with  a  huge  Bible  and  psalm-book  choicely  tucked 
under  his  left  arm.  After  sundry  glances  at  my 
dress  and  demeanour,  and  other  sundry  whisper- 
ings in  the  ear  of  my  .companion,  the  good  man 
drew  nigh,  and  delivered  himself  of  the  interroga- 
tory, "Are  you  a  clergyman,  sir?"  At  this  sage 
inquiry,  so  sagely  administered,  my  rebellious  Jips 
struggled  with  a  smile,  which,  I  misdoubt  me  much, 
was  not  unobserved  by  the  dark-looking  minister ; 


THE    FAR   WEST.  219 

for,  upon  my  reply  in  the  negative,  he  turned  very 
unceremoniously  away,  and  betook  him  to  his  pul- 
pit. By-the-by,  this  had  by  no  means  been  the 
first  time  I  had  been  called  to  answer  the  same  in- 
quiry during  my  ramble  in  the  West. 

On  returning  to  our  lodgings  after  service,  we 
found  quite  a  respectable  congregation  gathered 
around  the  signpost,  to  whom  my  pink  of  major 
domos  was  holding  forth  in  no  measured  terms 
upon  the  propriety  of  "  letting  off  the  pig  guns"  at 
the  dawning  of  the  ever-memorable  morrow,*  "in 
honour  of  the  tay  when  our  old  farders  fought  like 
coot  fellows;  they  tid  so,  py  jingoes;  and  I'll  pe 
out  at  tree  o'glock,  py  jingoes,  I  will  so,"  raphso- 
died  the  little  Dutchman,  wanning  up  under  the 
fervour  of  his  own  eloquence.  This  subject  was 
still  the  theme  of  his  rejoicing  when  he  marshalled 
me  to  my  dormitory  and  wished  me  "  pleashant 
treams." 

The  first  faint  streak  of  crimson  along  the  east- 
ern heavens  beheld  me  mounting  at  the  door  of  the 
inn  ;  and  by  my  side  was  the  patriotic  domo,  bow- 
ing, and  ducking,  and  telling  over  all  manner  of 
kind  wishes  till  I  had  evanished  from  view.  A 
more  precious  relic  of  the  true  oldfashioned,  swag- 
gering, pot-bellied  publican  is  rarely  to  be  met, 
than  that  which  I  encountered  in  the  person  of  the 
odd  little  genius  whose  peculiarities  I  have  re- 
counted :  even  the  worthy  old  "  Caleb  of  Ravens- 
wood,"  that  miracle  of  major  domos,  would  not 

*  July  4. 


220  THE    FAR    WEST. 

have  disowned  my  Dutchy  for  a  brother  crafts- 
man. The  village  of  Hillsborough  is  a  pleasant, 
healthy,  thriving  place  ;  and  being  intersected  by 
some  of  the  most  important  state  routes,  will  al- 
ways remain  a  thoroughfare.  An  attempt  has  been 
made  by  one  of  its  citizens  to  obtain  for  this  place 
the  location  of  the  Theological  Seminary  now  in 
contemplation  in  the  vicinity  rather  than  at  Carlin- 
ville,  and  the  offer  he  has  made  is  a  truly  munifi- 
cent one.  The  site  proposed  is  a  beautiful  mound, 
rising  on  the  prairie's  edge  south  of  the  village, 
commanding  a  view  for  miles  in  every  direction, 
and  is  far  more  eligible  than  any  spot  I  observed 
in  Carliuville 

After  crossing  a  prairie  about  a  dozen  miles  in 
width,  and  taking  breakfast  with  a  farmer  upon  its 
edge,  I  continued  my  journey  over  the  undulating 
plains  until  near  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  when 
I  reached  my  present  stage.  The  whole  region, 
as  I  journeyed  through  it,  lay  still  and  quiet :  ev- 
ery farmhouse  and  log-cabin  was  deserted  by  its 
tenants,  who  had  congregated  to  the  nearest  vil- 
lages to  celebrate  the  day ;  and,  verily,  not  a  little 
did  my  heart  smite  me  at  my  own  heedless  dese« 
cration  of  the  political  Sabbath  of  our  land. 

Vandalia,  III 


THE    FAR    WEST.  221 


XX. 

"  There  is  a  pleasure  in  the  pathless  woods, 
There  is  a  rapture  on  the  lonely  shore, 
There  is  society  where  rjpne  intrudes — " 

ChUde  Harold. 

"  The  sun  in  all  his  broad  career 
Ne'er  looked  upon  a  fairer  land, 
Or  brighter  skies  or  sweeter  scenes." 

EVER  since  the  days  of  that  king  of  vagabonds, 
the  mighty  Nimrod  of  sacred  story,  and,  for  aught 
to  the  contrary,  as  long  before,  there  has  existed  a 
certain  roving,  tameless  race  of  wights,  whose  chief 
delight  has  consisted  in  wandering  up  and  down 
upon  the  face  of  the  earth,  with  no  definite  object 
of  pursuit,  and  with  no  motive  of  peregrination 
save  a  kind  of  restless,  unsatisfied  craving  after 
change ;  in  its  results  much  like  the  migratory  in- 
stinct of  passage-birds,  but,  unlike  that  periodical 
instinct,  incessant  in  exercise.  Now,  whether  it  so 
be  that  a  tincture  of  this  same  vagrant,  Bohemian 
spirit  is  coursing  my  veins  under  the  name  of 
"  Yankee  enterprise,"  or  whether,  in  my  wander- 
ings through  these  wild,  unsettled  regions,  I  have 
imbibed  a  portion  thereof,  is  not  for  me  to  decide. 
Nevertheless,  sure  it  is,  not  unfrequently  ar<3  its 
promptings  detected  as  I  journey  through  this  beau- 
tiful land. 

It  is  evening  now,  and,  after  the  fatigues  of  a 
pleasant  day's  ride,  I  am  seated  beneath  the  piazza. 


222  THE    FAR    WEST. 

of  a  neat  farmhouse  in  the  edge  of  a  forest,  through 
which,  for  the  last  hour,  my  path  has  conducted, 
and  looking  out  upon  a  broad  landscape  of  prairie. 
My  landlord,  a  high-minded,  haughty  Virginia  em- 
igrant, bitterly  complains  because,  forsooth,  in  the 
absence  of  slave-labour,  he  is  forced  to  cultivate  his 
own  farm  ;  and  though,  by  the  aid  of  a  Dutchman, 
he  has  made  a  pretty  place  of  it,  yet  he  vows 
by  all  he  loves  to  lay  his  bones  within  the  bound- 
aries of  the  "  Ancient  Dominion."  My  ride  since 
noon  has  been  delightful ;  over  broad  plains,  inter- 
sected by  deep  creeks,  with  their  densely-wooded 
bottoms.  These  streams  constitute  one  of  the  most 
romantic  features  of  the  country.  I  have  crossed 
very  many  during  my  tour,  and  all  exhibit  the  same 
characteristics :  a  broad,  deep-cut  channel,  with 
precipitous  banks  loaded  with  enormous  trees,  their 
trunks  interwoven  and  matted  with  tangled  under- 
brush and  gigantic  vegetation.  As  the  traveller 
stands  upon  the  arch  of  the  bridge  of  logs  thrown 
over  these  creeks,  sometimes  with  an  altitude  at  the 
centre  of  forty  feet,  he  looks  down  upon  a  stream 
flowing  in  a  deep,  serpentine  bed,  and  winding 
away  into  the  dusky  shades  of  the  overhanging 
woods,  until  a  graceful  bend  withdraws  the  dark 
surface  of  the  waters  from  his  view.  In  the  dry 
months  of  summer,  these  creeks  and  ravines  are 
either  completely  free  of  water,  or  contain  but  a 
mere  rivulet ;  and  the  traveller  is  amazed  at  the 
depth  and  breadth  of  a  channel  so  scantily  supplied. 
But  at  the  season  of  the  spring  or  autumnal  rains 
the  scene  is  changed :  a  deep,  turbid  torrent  rolls 


THE    FAR    WEST.  223 

wildly  onward  through  the  dark  woods,  bearing 
on  its  surface  the  trunks  of  trees  and  the  ruins  of 
bridges  swept  from  its  banks;  and  the  stream  which, 
a  few  weeks  before,  would  scarcely  have  wet  the 
traveller's  sole,  is  now  an  obstacle  in  his  route  dif- 
ficult and  dangerous  to  overcome. 

Within  a  few  miles  of  my  present  quarters  an  ad- 
venture transpired  of  some  slight  interest  to  myself, 
at  least,  as  it  afforded  me  a  weary  trudge  beneath 
a  broiling  sun.  As  I  was  leisurely  pursuing  my  way 
through  the  forest,  I  had  chanced  to  spy  upon  the 
banks  of  the  roadside  a  cluster  of  wild  flowers  of 
hues  unusually  brilliant ;  and,  with  a  spirit  worthy 
of  Dr.  Bat,*  I  at  once  resolved  they  should  enrich 
my  "hortus  siccus."  Alighting,  therefore,  and 
leaving  my  steed  by  the  roadside,  I  at  length  suc- 
ceeded, after  most  laudable  scramblings  for  the  ad- 
vancement of  science,  in  gathering  up  a  bouquet  of 
surpassing  magnificence.  Alas !  alas !  would  it 
had  been  less  so ;  for  my  youthful  steed,  all  un- 
used to  such  sights  and  actions,  and  possessing, 
moreover,  a  most  sovereign  and  shameful  indiffer- 
ence to  the  glories  of  botany,  had  long,  with  suspi- 
cious and  sidelong  glances,  been  eying  the  vagaries 
of  his  truant  master ;  and  now,  no  sooner  did  he 
draw  nigh  to  resume  his  seat  and  journey,  than  the 
ungracious  and  ungrateful  quadruped  flung  aloft 
his  head,  and  away  he  careered  through  the  green 
branches,  mane  streaming  and  saddle-bags  flap- 
ping. In  vain  was  the  brute  addressed  in  language 
the  most  mild  and  conciliatory  that  ever  insinua- 
ted itself  into  horse's  lug  ;  in  vain  was  he  ordered, 

*  l\e  Prairie. 


224  THE    FAK    WEST. 

in  tones  of  stern  mandate,  to  cease  his  shameless 
and  unnatural  rebellion,  and  to  surrender  himself 
incontinently  and  without  delay  to  his  liege :  en- 
treaty and  command,  remonstrance  and  menace, 
were  alike  unsuccessful ;  and  away  he  flew,  "with 
flowing  tail  and  flying  mane,"  in  utter  contempt  of 
all  former  or  future  vassalage.  At  one  moment  he 
stood  the  attitude  of  humbleness  and  submission, 
coolly  cropping  the  herbage  of  the  high  banks  ;  and 
then,  the  instant  the  proximity  of  his  much-abused 
master  became  perilous  to  his  freedom,  aloft  flew 
mane  and  tail,  and  away,  away,  the  animal  was 
off,  until  an  interval  consistent  with  his  new-gained 
license  lay  behind  him.  After  an  hour  of  vexatious 
toiling  through  dust  and  sun,  a  happily-executed 
manoeuvre  once  more  placed  the  most  undutiful 
of  creatures  in  my  power.  And  then,  be  ye  sure, 
that  in  true  Gil  pin  fashion,  "  whip  and  spur  did 
make  amends"  for  all  arrears  of  unavenged  misbe- 
haviour. 

"  'Twas  for  your  pleasure  that  I  walked, 
Now  you  shall  RUN  for  mine," 

was  the  very  Christian  spirit  of  retaliation  which 
animated  the  few  succeeding  miles. 

"  But  something  too  much  of  this."  Some  pages 
back  I  was  entering  the  capital  of  Illinois.  The 
town  is  approached  from  the  north,  through  a  scat- 
tered forest,  separating  it  from  the  prairies ;  and 
its  unusually  large  and  isolated  buildings,  few  in 
number  as  they  are,  stationed  here  and  there  upon 
the  eminences  of  the  broken  surface,  give  the  place 
a  singularly  novel  aspect  viewed  from  the  adjacent 


THE    FAR    WEST.  225 

heights.  There  is  but  little  of  scenic  attraction 
about  the  place,  and,  to  the  traveller's  eye,  still  less 
of  the  picturesque.  Such  huge  structures  as  are 
here  beheld,  in  a  town  so  inconsiderable  in  extent, 
present  an  unnatural  and  forced  aspect  to  one  who 
has  just  emerged  from  the  wild  waste  of  the  neigh- 
bouring prairies,  sprinkled  with  their  humble  tene- 
ments of  logs.  The  scene  is  not  in  keeping ;  it  is 
not  picturesque.  Such,  at  all  events,  were  my 
"  first  impressions"  on  entering  the  village,  andjirst 
impressions  are  not  necessarily  false.  As  I  drew 
nigh  to  the  huge  white  tavern,  a  host  of  people  were 
swarming  the  doors  ;  and,  from  certain  uncouth 
noises  which  from  time  to  time  went  up  from  the 
midst  thereof,  not  an  inconsiderable  portion  of  the 
worthy  multitude  seemed  to  have  succeeded  in 
rendering  themselves  gloriously  tipsy  in  honour  of 
the  glorious  day.  There  was  one  keen,  bilious- 
looking  genius  in  linsey-woolsey,  with  a  face,  in  its 
intoxicated  state,  like  a  red-hot  tomahawk,  whom 
I  regarded  with  special  admiration  as  high-priest 
of  the  bacchanal ;  and  so  fierce  and  high  were  his 
objurgations,  that  the  idea  with  some  force  suggested 
itself,  whether,  in  the  course  of  years,  he  had  not 
screamed  his  lean  and  hungry  visage  to  its  present 
hatchet-like  proportions.  May  he  forgive  if  I  err. 
But  not  yet  were  my  adventures  over.  Having 
effected  a  retreat  from  the  abominations  of  the  bar- 
room, I  had  retired  to  a  chamber  in  the  most  quiet 
corner  of  the  mansion,  and  had  seated  myself  to 
endite  an  epistle,  when  a  rap  at  the  door  announced 
the  presence  of  mine  host,  leading  along  an  old 


226  THE    FAR   WEST. 

yeoman  whom  I  had  noticed  among  the  revellers ; 
and,  having  given  him  a  ceremonious  introduction, 
withdrew.  To  what  circumstance  I  was  indebted 
for  this  unexpected  honour,  I  was  puzzling  myself 
to  divine,  when  the  old  gentleman,  after  a  preface 
of  clearings  of  the  throat  and  scratchings  of  the 
head,  gave  me  briefly  to  understand,  much  to  my 
admiration,  that  I  was  believed  to  be  neither  more 
nor  less  than  an  "  Agent  for  a  Western  Land  Spec- 
ulating Company  of  the  North,"  etc.,  etc. :  and  then, 
in  a  confidential  tone,  before  a  syllable  of  negation 
or  affirmation  could  be  offered,  that  he  "  owned  a 
certain  tract  of  land,  so  many  acres  prairie,  so 
many  timber,  so  many  cultivated,  so  many  wild," 
etc.,  etc.:  the  sequel  was  anticipated  by  undeceiv- 
ing the  old  farmer  forthwith,  though  with  no  little 
difficulty.  The  cause  of  this  mistake  I  subsequently 
discovered  to  be  a  very  slight  circumstance.  On 
the  tavern  register  in  the  bar-room  I  had  entered 
as  my  residence  my  native  home  at  the  North,  more 
for  the  novelty  of  the  idea  than  for  anything  else ; 
or  because,  being  a  sort  of  cosmopolitan,  I  might 
presume  myself  at  liberty  to  appropriate  any  spot 
I  thought  proper  as  that  of  my  departure  or  desti- 
nation. As  a  matter  of  course,  and  with  laudable 
desire  to  augment  their  sum  of  useful  knowledge, 
no  sooner  had  the  traveller  turned  from  the  regis- 
ter than  the  sagacious  host  and  his  compeer  brandy- 
bibbers  turned  towards  it ;  and  being  unable  to  con- 
ceive any  reasonable  excuse  for  a  man  to  be  wan- 
dering so  far  from  his  home  except  for  lucre's  sake, 
the  conclusion  at  once  and  irresistibly  followed  that 


THE    FAR  WEST.  227 

the  stranger  was  a  land-speculator,  or  something 
thereunto  akin  ;  and  it  required  not  many  moments 
for  such  a  wildfire  idea  to  run  through  such  an  in- 
flammable mass  of  curiosity. 

With  the  situation  and  appearance  of  Vandalia 
I  was  not,  as  I  have  expressed  myself,  much  pre- 
possessed ;  indeed,  I  was  somewhat  disappointed. 
Though  not  prepared  for  anything  very  striking, 
yet  in  the  capital  of  a  state  we  always  anticipate 
something,  if  not  superior  or  equal,  at  least  not  in- 
ferior to  neighbouring  towns  of  less  note.  Its  site 
is  an  elevated,  undulating  tract  upon  the  west  bank 
of  the  Kaskaskia,  and  was  once  heavily  timbered, 
as  are  now  its  suburbs.  The  streets  are  of  liberal 
breadth — some  of  them  not  less  than  eighty  feet 
from  kerb  to  kerb — enclosing  an  elevated  public 
square  nearly  in  the  centre  of  the  village,  which  a 
little  expenditure  of  time  and  money  might  render 
a  delightful  promenade.  The  public  edifices  are 
very  inconsiderable,  consisting  of  an  ordinary 
structure  of  brick  for  legislative  purposes  ;  a  simi- 
lar building  originally  erected  as  a  banking  estab- 
lishment, but  now  occupied  by  the  offices  of  the 
state  authorities  ;  a  Presbyterian  Church,  with  cu- 
pola and  bell,  besides  a  number  of  lesser  buildings 
for  purposes  of  worship  and  education.  A  hand- 
some structure  of  stone  for  a  bank  is,  however,  in 
progress,  which,  when  completed,  with  other  pub- 
lic buildings  in  contemplation,  will  add  much  to 
the  aspect  of  the  place.  Here  also  is  a  land-office 
for  the  district,  and  the  Cumberland  Road  is  per- 
manently located  and  partially  constructed  to  the 


228  THE    FAR  WEST. 

place.  An  historical  and  antiquarian  society  has 
here  existed  for  about  ten  years,  and  its  published 
proceedings  evince  much  research  and  information. 
"The  Illinois  Magazine"  was  the  name  of  an  ably- 
conducted  periodical  commenced  at  this  town 
some  years  since,  and  prosperously  carried  on  by 
Judge  Hall,  but  subsequently  removed  to  Cincin- 
nati. Some  of  the  articles  published  in  this  maga- 
zine, descriptive  of  the  state,  were  of  high  merit. 
It  is  passing  strange  that  a  town  like  Vandalia,  with 
all  the  natural  and  artificial  advantages  it  possess- 
es; located  nearly  twenty  years  ago,  by  state  au- 
thority, expressly  as  the  seat  of  government ;  situa- 
ted upon  the  banks  of  a  fine  stream,  which  small 
expense  would  render  navigable  for  steamers,  and 
in  the  heart  of  a  healthy  and  fertile  region,  should 
have  increased  and  flourished  no  more  than  seems 
to  have  been  the  case.  Vandalia  will  continue 
the  seat  of  government  until  the  year  1840  ;  when, 
agreeable  to  the  late  act  of  Legislature,  it  is  to  be 
removed  to  Springfield,  where  an  appropriation  of 
$50,000  has  been  made  for  a  state-house  now  in 
progress. 

The  growth  of  Vandalia,  though  tardy,  can  per- 
haps be  deemed  so  only  in  comparison  with  the 
more  rapid  advancement  of  neighbouring  towns  ; 
for  a  few  years  after  it  was  laid  off  it  was  unsur- 
passed in  improvement  by  any  other.  We  are  told 
that  the  first  legislators  who  assembled  in  session  at 
this  place  sought  their  way  through  the  neighbour- 
ing prairies  as  the  mariner  steers  over  the  track- 
less ocean,  by  his  knowledge  of  the  cardinal  points- 


THE    FAR   WEST.  229 

Judges  and  lawyers  came  pouring  in  from  opposite 
directions,  as  wandering  tribes  assemble  to  council ; 
and  many  were  the  tales  of  adventure  and  mishap 
related  at  their  meeting.  Some  had  been  lost  in 
the  prairies;  some  had  slept  in  the  woods;  some 
had  been  almost  chilled  to  death,  plunging  through 
creeks  and  rivers.  A  rich  growth  of  majestic  oaks 
then  covered  the  site  of  the  future  metropolis; 
tangled  thickets  almost  impervious  to  human  foot 
surrounded  it,  and  all  was  wilderness  on  every 
side.  Wonderful  accounts  of  the  country  to  the 
north ;  of  rich  lands,  and  pure  streams,  and  prai- 
ries more  beautiful  than  any  yet  discovered,  soon 
began  to  come  in  by  the  hunters.*  But  over  that 
country  the  Indian  yet  roved,  and  the  adventurous 
pioneer  neither  owned  the  soil  he  cultivated,  nor  had 
the  power  to  retain  its  possession  from  the  savage. 
Only  eight  years  after  this,  and  a  change,  as  if  by 
magic,  had  come  over  the  little  village  of  Vandalia  ; 
and  not  only  so,  but  over  the  whole  state,  which 
was  now  discovered  to  be  a  region  more  exten- 
sive and  far  more  fertile  than  the  "  sacred  island 
of  Britain."  The  region  previously  the  frontier 
formed  the  heart  of  the  fairest  portion  of  the 
state,  and  a  dozen  new  counties  were  formed  with- 
in its  extent.  Mail-routes  and  post-roads,  diver- 
ging in  all  directions  from  the  capital,  had  been  es- 
tablished, and  canals  and  railways  had  been  pro- 
jected. Eight  years  more,  and  the  "  Northern 
frontier"  is  the  seat  of  power  and  population ;  and 

*  Hall. 

VOL.  I.—U 


230  THE    FAR   WEST. 

here  is  removed  the  seat  of  government,  because 
the  older  settlements  have  not  kept  pace  in  ad- 
vancement. 

It  was  a  fine  mellow  morning  when  I  left  Van- 
dalia  to  pursue  my  journey  over  the  prairies  to 
Carlisle.  For  some  miles  my  route  lay  through  a 
dense  clump  of  old  woods,  relieved  at  intervals  by 
extended  glades  of  sparser  growth.  This  road  is 
but  little  travelled,  and  so  obscure  that  for  most  of 
the  way  I  could  avail  myself  of  no  other  guide  than 
the  "  blaze91  upon  the  trees  ;  and  this  mark  in  many 
places,  from  its  ancient,  weather-beaten  aspect, 
seemed  placed  there  by  the  axe  of  the  earliest  pio- 
neer. Rank  grass  has  obliterated  the  pathway, 
and  overhanging  boughs  brush  the  cheek.  It  was 
in  one  of  those  extended  glades  I  have  mentioned 
that  a  nobly-antlered  buck  and  his  beautiful  doe 
sprang  out  upon  the  path,  and  stood  gazing  upon 
me  from  the  wayside  until  I  had  approached  so  near 
that  a  rifle,  even  in  hands  all  unskilled  in  "  gentle 
woodcraft,"  had  not  been  harmless.  I  was  even 
beginning  to  meditate  upon  the  probable  effect  of 
a  pistol-shot  at  twenty  paces,  when  the  graceful 
animals,  throwing  proudly  up  their  arching  necks, 
bounded  off  into  the  thicket.  Not  many  miles  from 
the  spot  I  shared  the  rough  fare  of  an  old  hunter, 
who  related  many  interesting  facts  in  the  character 
and  habits  of  this  animal,  and  detailed  some  curious 
anecdotes  in  the  history  of  his  own  wild  life.  He 
was  just  about  leaving  his  lodge  on  a  short  hunting 
excursion,  and  the  absence  of  a  rifle  alone  pre- 
vented me  from  accepting  a  civil  request  to  bear 
him  company. 


THE    FAR    WEST.  231 

Most  of  the  route  from  Vandalia  to  Carlisle  is  very 
tolerable,  with  the  exception  of  one  detestable"  spot, 
fitly  named  "  Hurricane  Bottom ;"  a  more  dreary, 
desolate,  purgatorial  region  than  which,  I  am  very 
free  to  say,  exists  not  in  Illinois.  It  is  a  densely- 
wooded  swamp,  composed  of  soft  blue  clay,  exceed- 
ingly tenacious  to  the  touch  and  fetid  in  odour,  ex- 
tending nearly  two  miles.  A  regular  highway  over 
this  mud-hole  can  scarcely  be  said  to  exist,  though 
repeated  attempts  to  construct  one  have  been  made 
at  great  expense :  and  now  the  traveller,  upon  en- 
tering this  "  slough  of  despond,"  gives  his  horse  the 
reins  to  slump,  and  slide,  and  plunge,  and  struggle 
through  among  the  mud-daubed  trees  to  the  best  of 
his  skill  and  ability. 

Night  overtook  me  in  the  very  heart  of  a  broad 
prairie ;  and,  like  the  sea,  a  desolate  place  is  the 
prairie  of  a  dark  night.  It  demanded  no  little  ex- 
ercise of  the  eye  and  judgment  to  continue  upon  a 
route  where  the  path  was  constantly  diverging  and 
varying  in  all  directions.  A  bright  glare  of  light  at 
a  distance  at  length  arrested  my  attention.  On  ap- 
proaching, I  found  it  to  proceed  from  an  encamp- 
ment of  tired  emigrants,  whose  ponderous  teams 
were  wheeled  up  around  the  blazing  fire ;  while  the 
hungry  oxen,  released  from  the  yoke,  were  brows- 
ing upon  the  tops  of  the  tall  prairie-grass  on  every 
side.  This  grass,  though  coarse  in  appearance,  in 
the  early  stages  of  its  growth  resembles  young 
wheat,  and  furnishes  a  rich  and  succulent  food  for 
cattle.  It  is  even  asserted  that,  when  running  at 
large  in  fields  where  the  young  wheat  covers  the 


232  THE    FAR  WEST. 

ground,  cattle  choose  the  prairie-grass  in  the  margin 
of  the  field  in  preference  to  the  wheat  itself.  A 
few  scattered,  twinkling  lights,  and  the  fresh-smell- 
ing air  from  the  Kaskaskia,  soon  after  informed  me 
that  I  was  not  far  from  the  village  of  Carlisle. 
This  is  a  pleasant,  romantic  little  town,  upon  the 
west  bank  of  the  river,  and  upon  the  great  stage- 
route  through  the  state  from  St.  Louis  to  Vincen- 
nes.  This  circumstance,  and  the  intersection  of 
several  other  state  thoroughfares,  give  it  the  ani- 
mated, business-like  aspect  of  a  market  town,  not 
often  witnessed  in  a  village  so  remote  from  the  ad- 
vantages of  general  commerce.-  Its  site  is  elevated 
and  salubrious,  on  the  border  of  a  fertile  prairie: 
yet,  notwithstanding  all  these  advantages,  Carlisle 
cannot  be  said  to  have  increased  very  rapidly  when 
we  consider  that  twenty  years  have  elapsed  since  it 
was  first  laid  off  for  a  town.  It  is  the  seat  of  jus- 
tice for  Clinton  county,  and  can  boast  a  wooden 
courthouse  in  "  ruinous  perfection."  In  its  vicinity 
are  some  beautiful  country-seats.  One  of  these, 
named  "  Mound  Farm,"  the  delightful  residence  of 

Judge  B ,  imbowered  in  trees  and  shrubbery, 

and  about  a  mile  from  the  village,  I  visited  during 
my  stay.  It  commands  from  its  elevated  site  a  no- 
ble view  of  the  neighbouring  prairie,  the  village 
and  river  at  its  foot,  and  the  adjacent  farms.  Un- 
der the  superintendence  of  cultivated  taste,  this  spot 
may  become  one  of  the  loveliest  retreats  in  Illinois. 
Clinton  county,  III. 


THE    PAR   WEST.  233 


XXL 

"  To  him  who,  in  the  love  of  Nature,  holds 
Communion  with  her  visible  forms,  she  speaks 
A  various  language." 


"  The  sunny  Italy  may  boast 

The  beauteous  tints  that  flush  her  skies, 
And  lovely  round  the  Grecian  coast 

May  thy  blue  pillars  rise  : 
I  only  know  how  fair  they  stand 
About  my  own  beloved  land." 

The  Skies.—  BRYANT. 

To  the  man  of  cultivated  imagination  and  deli- 
cate taste,  the  study  of  nature  never  fails  to  afford 
a  gratification,  refined  as  it  is  exquisite.  In  the 
pencilled  petals  of  the  flower  as  it  bows  to  the 
evening  breeze  ;  in  the  glittering  scales  of  the  fish 
leaping  from  the  wave  ;  in  the  splendid  plumage 
of  the  forest-bird,  and  in  the  music-tinklings  of  the 
wreathed  and  enamelled  sea-shell  rocked  by  the 
billow,  he  recognises  an  eloquence  of  beauty  which 
he  alone  can  appreciate.  For  him,  too,  the  myriad 
forms  of  animate  creation  unite  with  inanimate  na- 
ture in  one  mighty  hymn  of  glory  to  their  Maker, 
from  the  hum  of  the  sparkling  ephemeroid  as  he 
blithely  dances  away  his  little  life  in  the  beams  of 
a  summer  sun,  and  the  rustling  music  of  the  prai- 
rie-weed swept  by  the  winds,  to  the  roar  of  the 
shaggy  woods  upon  the  mountain-side,  and  the 
fierce,  wild  shriek  of  the  ocean-eagle.  To  inves- 


234  THE    FAR    WEST. 

tigate  the  more  minute  and  delicate  of  Nature's 
workings  is  indeed  a  delightful  task;  and  along 
this  fairy  and  flowery  pathway  the  cultivated  fancy 
revels  with  unmingled  gratification;  but,  as  the 
mind  approaches  the  vaster  exhibitions  of  might 
and  majesty,  the  booming  of  the  troubled  ocean, 
the  terrible  sublimity  of  the  midnight  storm,  the 
cloudy  magnificence  of  the  mountain  height,  the 
venerable  grandeur  of  the  aged  forest,  it  expands 
itself  in  unison  till  lost  in  the  immensity  of  created 
things.  Reflections  like  these  are  constantly  sug- 
gesting themselves  to  the  traveller's  thoughts  amid 
the  grand  scenery  of  the  West ;  but  at  no  season 
do  they  rise  more  vividly  upon  the  mind  than  when 
the  lengthened  shadows  of  evening  are  stealing 
over  the  landscape,  and  the  summer  sun  is  sinking 
to  his  rest.  This  is  the  "  magic  hour"  when 

"  Bright  clouds  are  gathering  one  by  one, 
Sweeping  in  pomp  round  the  dying  sun  ; 
With  crimson  banner  and  golden  pall, 
Like  a  host  to  their  chieftain's  funeral." 

There  is  not  a  more  magnificent  spectacle  in  nature 
than  summer  sunset  on  the  Western  prairie.  I 
have  beheld  the  orb  of  day,  after  careering  his 
course  like  a  giant  through  the  firmament,  go  down 
into  the  fresh  tumbling  billows  of  ocean ;  and  sun- 
set on  the  prairies,  which  recalls  that  scene,  is  alone 
equalled  by  it. 

Near  nightfall  one  evening  I  found  myself  in  the 
middle  of  one  of  these  vast  extended  plains,  where 
the  eye  roves  unconfined  over  the  scene,  for  miles 
unrelieved  by  a  stump,  or  a  tree,  or  a  thicket, 
and  meets  only  the  deep  'blue  of  the  horizon  on 


THE    FAR    WEST.  235 

every  side,  blending  with  the  billowy  foliage  of  the 
distant  woodland.  Descending  a  graceful  slope, 
even  this  object  is  lost,  and  a  boundless  landscape 
of  blue  above  and  green  below  is  unfolded  to  the 
traveller's  vision  ;  again,  approaching  the  summit  of 
the  succeeding  slope,  the  forest  rises  in  clear  outline 
in  the  margin  of  the  vast  panorama.  For  some 
hours  the  heavens  had  been  so  enveloped  in  huge 
masses  of  brassy  clouds,  that  now,  when  the  shad- 
ows deepened  over  sky  and  earth,  one  was  at  a  loss 
to  determine  whether  the  sun  had  yet  gone  down, 
except  for  a  broad  zone  of  sapphire  girding  the 
whole  western  firmament.  Upon  the  superior  edge 
of  this  deep  belt  now  glistened  the  luminary,  grad- 
ually revealing  itself  to  the  eye,  and  blazing  forth 
at  length  "  like  angels'  locks  unshorn,"  flinging  a 
halo  of  golden  effulgence  far  athwart  the  dim  even- 
ing prairie.  A  metamorphosis  so  abrupt,  so  rapid, 
so  unlocked  for,  seemed  almost  to  realize  the  fables 
of  enchantment.  One  moment,  and  the  whole  vast 
landscape  lay  veiled  in  shadowy  dimness ;  the  next, 
and  every  grass  blade,  and  spray,  and  floweret,  and 
nodding  wild-weed  seemed  suffused  in  a  flood  of 
liquid  effulgence;  while  far  along,  the  uniform 
ridges  of  the  heaving  plain  gleamed  in  the  rich  light 
like  waves  of  a  moonlit  sea,  sweeping  away,  roll 
upon  roll,  till  lost  in  distance  to  the  eye.  Slowly 
the  splendid  disk  went  down  behind  the  sea  of 
waving  verdure,  until  at  length  a  single  point  of  in- 
tense, bewildering  brightness  flamed  out  above  the 
mass  of  green.  An  instant,  this  too  was  gone — as 

"  An  angel's  wing  through  an  opening  cloud, 
Is  seen  and  then  withdrawn  :"— - 


236  THE    FAR    WEST. 

and  then  those  deep,  lurid  funeral  fires  of  departing 
day  streamed,  flaring  upward  even  to  the  zenith, 
flinging  over  the  vast  concave  a  robe  of  unearthly, 
terrible  magnificence  !  Then,  as  the  fount  of  all  this 
splendour  sank  deeper  and  deeper  beneath  the  hor- 
izon, the  blood-red  flames  died  gently  away  into  the 
mellow  glories  of  summer  evening  skylight,  bathing 
the  brow  of  heaven  in  a  tender  roseate,  which  hours 
after  cheered  the  lonely  traveller  across  the  waste. 
The  pilgrim  wanderer  in  other  climes  comes  back 
to  tell  us  of  sunnier  skies  and  softer  winds  !  The 
blue  heavens  of  Italy  have  tasked  the  inspiration  of 
an  hundred  bards,  and  the  warm  brush  of  her  own 
Lorraine  has  swept  the  canvass  with  their  gorgeous 
transcript!  But  what  pencil  has  wandered  over 
the  grander  scenes  of  the  North  American  prairie  ? 
What  bard  has  struck  his  lyre  to  the  wild  melody 
of  loveliness  of  the  prairie  sunset  ?  Yet  who  shall 
tell  us  that  there  exists  not  a  glory  in  the  scene, 
amid  the  untrod  wastes  of  the  wilderness  West, 
which  even  the  skies  of  "  sunny  Italy"  might  not 
blush  anew  to  acknowledge  ?  No  wandering  Har- 
old has  roamed  on  a  pilgrimage  of  poetry  over  the 
sublime  and  romantic  scenery  of  our  land,  to  hymn 
its  praise  in  breathing  thoughts  and  glowing  words ; 
yet  here  as  there, 

"  Parting  day 

Dies  like  the  dolphin,  whom  each  pang  imbues 
With  a  new  colour  as  it  gasps  away : 
The  last  still  loveliest,  till — 'tis  gone — and  all  is  gray  !" 

I  cannot  tell  of  the  beauties  of  climes  I  have 
never  seen ;  but  I  have  gazed  upon  all  the  varied 
loveliness  of  my  own  fair,  nat've  land,  from  the  ri- 


THE    FAR    WEST.  237 

sing  sun  to  its  setting,  and  in  vain  have  tasked  my 
fancy  to  image  a  fairer. 

A  pleasant  day's  ride  directly  west  from  Carlisle, 
over  extensive  and  beautiful  prairies,  intersected  by 
shady  woods,  with  their  romantic  creeks,  and  the 
traveller  finds  himself  in  the  quiet  village  of  Leba- 
non. Its  site  is  a  commanding,  mound-like  eleva- 
tion in  the  skirts  of  a  forest,  swelling  gently  up  from 
the  prairie  on  the  west  bank  of  Little  Silver  Creek. 
This  stream,  with  the  larger  branch,  received  its 
name  from  the  circumstance  that  the  early  French 
settlers  of  the  country,  in  the  zeal  of  their  faith  and 
research  for  the  precious  metals,  a  long  while  mis- 
took the  brilliant  specula  of  horneblende  which  flow 
in  its  clear  waters  for  silver,  and  were  unwilling  to 
be  undeceived  in  their  extravagant  anticipations 
until  the  absence  of  the  material  in  their  purses 
aroused  them  from  their  error.  In  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Rock  Spring  a  shaft  for  a  mine  was  sunk.* 
It  was  early  one  beautiful  morning  that  I  found  my- 
self approaching  the  village  of  Lebanon,  though 
many  miles  distant  in  the  adjacent  plain  ;  appropri- 
ately named  for  its  loveliness  the  "  Looking-glass 
Prairie."  The  rosy  sunbeams  were  playing  lightly 
over  the  pleasant  country-seats  and  neat  farmhouses, 
with  their  white  palings,  sprinkled  along  the  decliv- 
ity before  me,  imbowered  in  their  young  orchards 
and  waving  maize-fields ;  while  flocks  and  herds, 

*  Tradition  telleth  of  vast  treasures  here  exhumed ;  and,  on 
strength  of  this,  ten  years  ago  a  company  of  fortune-seekers  dug 
away  for  several  months  with  an  enthusiasm  worthy  of  better  sac- 
cess  than  awaited  them. 


238  THE    FAR   WEST. 

gathered  in  isolated  masses  over  the  intervening 
meadow,  were  cropping  the  rich  herbage.  To  the 
right  and  left,  and  in  the  rear,  the  prairie  stretches 
away  beyond  the  view.  The  body  of  the  village  is 
situated  about  one  mile  from  these  suburbs,  and  its 
character  and  history  may  be  summed  up  in  the 
single  sentence,  a  pleasant  little  Methodist  country 
village.  The  peculiarities  of  the  sect  are  here 
strikingly  manifested  to  the  traveller  in  all  the  or- 
dinary concerns  and  occupations  of  life,  even  in  the 
every-day  garb  and  conversation  of  its  sober-browed 
citizens.  It  presents  the  spectacle,  rare  as  it  is 
cheering,  of  an  entire  community  characterized  by 
its  reverence  for  religion.  Located  in  its  immediate 
vicinity  is  a  flourishing  seminary,  called  M'Ken- 
dreean  College.  It  is  under  the  supervision  of  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  and  has  at  present  two 
instructors,  with  about  fifty  pupils  in  the  prepara- 
tory department.  It  has  a  commodious  frame  build- 
ing, presenting  from  its  elevated  site  an  imposing 
view  to  the  traveller.  As  is  usually  the  case  with 
these  little  out-of-the-world  villages,  when  any  ob- 
ject comes  up  in  the  midst  around  which  the  feel- 
ings and  interests  of  all  may  cluster,  upon  this  in- 
stitution is  centred  the  heart  and  soul  of  every 
man,  to  say  not  a  word  of  all  the  women  and  chil- 
dren, in  Lebanon ;  and  everything  not  connected, 
either  remotely  or  immediately,  with  its  welfare,  is 
deemed  of  very  little,  if  of  any  importance.  "  The 
Seminary !  The  Seminary  /"  I  defy  a  traveller 
to  tarry  two  hours  in  the  village  without  hearing 
rung  all  the  changes  upon  that  topic  for  his  edifica- 
tion. The  surrounding  region  is  fertile,  populous, 


THE    FAR    WEST.  239 

and  highly  cultivated ;  and  for  an  inland,  farming 
village,  it  is  quite  as  bustling,  I  suppose,  as  should 
be  expected  ;  though,  during  my  visit,  its  streets — 
which,  by-the-by,  are  of  very  liberal  breadth — main- 
tained a  most  Sabbath-like  aspect. 

The  route  from  Lebanon  to  Belleville  is,  in  fine 
weather,  very  excellent.  Deep  woods  on  either  side 
of  the  hard,  smooth,  winding  pathway,  throw  their 
boughs  over  the  head,  sometimes  lengthening  away 
into  an  arched  vista  miles  in  extent.  It  was  a  sul- 
try afternoon  when  I  was  leisurely  travelling  along 
this  road  ;  and  the  shadowy  coolness  of  the  atmo- 
sphere, the  perfume  of  wild  flowers  and  aromatic 
herbs  beneath  the  underbrush,  and  the  profusion  of 
summer  fruit  along  the  roadside,  was  indescribably 
delightful.  Near  sunset,  a  graceful  bend  of  the 
road  around  a  clump  of  trees  placed  before  me  the 
pretty  little  village  of  Belleville  ;  its  neat  enclosures 
and  white  cottages  peeping  through  the  shrubbery, 
now  gilded  by  the  mellow  rays  of  sunset  in  every 
leaf  and  spray.  Whether  it  was  owing  to  this 
agreeable  coincidence,  or  to  the  agreeable  visit  I 
here  enjoyed,  that  I  conceived  such  an  attachment 
for  the  place,  I  cannot  say  ;  but  sure  it  is,  I  fell  in 
love  with  the  little  town  aijirst  sight ;  and,  what  is 
more  marvellous,  was  not,  according  to  all  prece- 
dent, cured  at  second,  when  on  the  following  morn- 
ing I  sallied  forth  to  reconnoitre  its  beauties  "  at 
mine  own  good  leisure."  Now  it  is  to  be  pre- 
sumed that,  agreeable  to  the  taste  of  six  travellers 
in  a  dozen,  I  have  passed  through  many  a  village 
in  Illinois  quite  as  attractive  as  this  same  Belle- 
ville :  but  to  convince  me  of  the  fact  would  be  no 


240  THE    FAR   WEST. 

easy  task.  "  Man  is  the  sport  of  circumstance," 
says  the  fatalist ;  and  however  this  may  be  in  the 
moral  world,  if  any  one  feels  disposed  to  doubt  upon 
the  matter  in  the  item  before  us,  let  him  disembark 
from  a  canal-boat  at  Pittsburgh  on  a  rainy,  misty, 
miserable  morning ;  and  then,  unable  to  secure  for 
his  houseless  head  a  shelter  from  the  pitiless  pelt- 
ings,  let  him  hurry  away  through  the  filthy  streets, 
deluged  with  inky  water,  to  a  crowded  Ohio  steam- 
er ;  and  if  "  circumstances'''  do  not  force  him  to  dis- 
like Pittsburgh  ever  after,  then  his  human  nature  is 
vastly  more  forbearing  than  my  own.  Change  the 
picture.  Let  him  enter  the  quiet  little  Illinois  vil- 
lage at  the  gentle  hour  of  sunset ;  let  him  meet 
warm  hospitality,  and  look  upon  fair  forms  and 
bright  faces,  and  if  he  fail  to  be  pleased  with  that 
place,  why,  "  he's  not  the  man  I  took  him  for. 

The  public  buildings  of  Belleville  are  a  handsome 
courthouse  of  brick,  a  wretched  old  jail  of  the  same 
material,  a  public  hall  belonging  to  a  library  com- 
pany, and  a  small  framed  Methodist  house  of  wor- 
ship. It  is  situated  in  the  centre  of  "  Turkey-hill 
Settlement,"  one  of  the  oldest  and  most  flourishing 
in  the  state,  and  has  a  fine  timber  tract  and  several 
beautiful  country-seats  in  its  vicinity. 

Leaving  Belleville  with  some  reluctance,  and  not 
a  few  "  longing,  lingering  looks  behind,"  my  route 
continued  westward  over  a  broken  region  of  alter- 
nating forest  and  prairie,  sparsely  sprinkled  with 
trees,  and  yet  more  sparsely  with  inhabitants.  At 
length,  having  descended  a  precipitous  hill,  the 
rounded  summit  of  which,  as  well  as  the  adjoining 
heights,  commanded  an  immense  expanse  of  level 


THE    PAR   WEST*  241 

landscape,  stretching  off  from  the  base,  I  stood 
once  more  upon  the  fertile  soil  of  the  "  American 
Bottom"  The  sharp,  heavy-roofed  French  cottages, 
with  low  verandahs  running  around ;  the  ungainly 
outhouses  and  enclosures ;  the  curiously-fashioned 
vehicles  and  instruments  of  husbandry  in  the  barn- 
yards and  before  the  doors ;  the  foreign  garb  and  di- 
alect of  the  people ;  and,  above  all,  the  amazing  fer- 
tility of  the  soil,  over  whose  exhaustless  depths  the 
maize  has  rustled  half  a  century,  constitute  the 
most  striking  characteristics  of  this  interesting  tract, 
in  the  section  over  which  I  was  passing.  This 
settlement,  extending  from  the  foot  of  the  bluffs  for 
several  miles  over  the  Bottom,  was  formed  about 
forty  years  ago  by  a  colony  from  Cahokia,  and 
known  by  the  name  of  "Little  French  Village;" 
it  now  comprises  about  twenty  houses  and  a  grog- 
shop. In  these  bluffs  lies  an  exhaustless  bed  of  bitu- 
minous coal :  vast  quantities  have  been  transported 
to  St.  Louis,  and  for  this  purpose  principally  is  the 
railway  to  the  river  designed.  This  vein  of  coal  is 
said  to  have  been  discovered  by  the  rivulet  of  a 
spring  issuing  from  the  base  of  the  bluffs.  The 
stratum  is  about  six  feet  in  thickness,  increasing  in 
size  as  it  penetrates  the  hill  horizontally.  Though 
somewhat  rotten  and  slaty,  it  is  in  some  particulars 
not  inferior  to  the  coal  of  the  Alleghanies ;  and  the 
vein  is  thought  to  extend  first  from  the  mouth  of  the 
Kaskaskia  to  that  of  the  Illinois.  About  three  miles 
below  the  present  shaft,  a  continuation  of  the  bed 
was  discovered  by  fire  communicated  from  the  root 
of  a  tree  ;  the  bank  of  coal  burnt  for  upward  of  a 
VOL.  L—X 


242  THE   FAR   WEST. 

twelvemonth,  and  the  conflagration  was  then  smoth- 
ered only  by  the  falling  in  of  the  superincumbent 
soil.  St.  Clair  county,  which  embraces  a  large 
portion  of  the  American  Bottom,  is  the  oldest  settle- 
ment in  the  state.  In  1795  the  county  was  formed 
by  the  Legislature  of  the  Northwestern  Territory, 
and  then  included  all  settlements  in  Illinois  east  of 
the  Mississippi, 

I  had  just  cleverly  cleared  the  outskirts  of  the 
little  antediluvian  village  beneath  the  bluffs,  when 
a  dark,  watery-looking  cloud  came  tumbling  up  out 
of  the  west ;  the  thunder  roared  across  the  Bottom 
and  was  reverberated  from  the  cliffs,  and  in  a  few 
moments  down  came  the  big  rain-drops  dancing  in 
torrents  from  the  clouds,  and  pattering  up  like  mist 
along  the  plain.  Verily,  groaned  forth  the  wo-be- 
gone  traveller,  this  is  the  home  of  clouds  and  the 
realm  of  thunder  !  Never  did  hapless  mortals  sus- 
tain completer  drenchings  than  did  the  traveller  and 
his  steed,  notwithstanding  upon  the  first  onset  they 
had  plunged  themselves  into  the  sheltering  depths  of 
the  wood.  A  half  hour's  gallop  over  the  slippery 
bottom,  and  the  stern  roar  of  a  steamer's  'scape-pipe 
informed  me  that  I  was  not  far  from  the  "great 
waters."  A  few  yards  through  the  belt  of  forest, 
and  the  city  of  San  Louis,  with  towers  and  roofs, 
stood  before  me. 
St.  Louis. 


THE    FAR   WEST.  243 


XXII. 

"  I  have  no  wife  nor  children,  good  or  bad,  to  provide  for ;  a 
mere  spectator  of  other  men's  fortunes  and  adventures,  and  how 
they  play  their  parts." — Anat^  of  Melancholy. 

"  Oh  ye  dread  scenes,  where  Nature  dwells  alone, 
Serenely  glorious  on  her  craggy  throne  ; 
Ye  citadels  of  rock,  gigantic  forms, 
Veiled  by  the  mists,  and  girdled  by  the  storms  ; 
Ravines,  and  glens,  and  deep-resounding  caves, 
That  hold  communion  with  the  torrent  waves." 

HEMANS. 

AH,  the  single  blessedness  of  the  unmarried  state ! 
Such  is  the  sentiment  of  an  ancient  worthy,  quietly 
expressed  in  the  lines  which  I  have  selected  for  a 
motto.  After  dozing  away  half  his  days  and  all  his 
energies  within  the  dusky  walls  of  a  university, 
tumbling  over  musty  tomes  and  shrivelled  parch- 
ments until  his  very  brain  had  become  cobwebbed 
as  the  alcoves  he  haunted,  and  the  blood  in  hi& 
veins  was  all  "  adust  and  thin ;"  then,  forsooth,  the 
shameless  old  fellow  issues  forth  with  his  vainglo- 
rious sentiment  upon  his  lips  !  And  yet,  now  that 
we  consider,  there  is  marvellous  "method"  in  the 
old  man's  "  madness  !"  In  very  truth  and  soberness, 
there  is  a  blessedness  which  the  bachelor  can  boast, 
single  though  it  be,  in  which  the  "man  of  fam- 
ily," though  doubly  blessed,  cannot  share  !  To  the 
former,  life  may  be  made  one  long  holyday,  and  its 
path  a  varied  and  a  flowery  one  !  while  to  the  poor 


244  THE    PAR   WEST. 

victim  of  matrimonial  toils,  wife  and  children  are 
the  Alpha  and  Omega  of  a  weary  existence !  Of 
all  travelling  companionship,  forfend  us  from  that 
of  a  married  man !  Independence  !  He  knows  not 
of  it !  Such  is  the  text  and  such  the  commentary  : 
now  for  the  practical  application. 

It  was  a  balmy  July  morning,  and  the  flutelike 
melody  of  the  turtle-dove  was  ringing  through  the 
woodlands.  Leaving  the  pleasant  villa  of  Dr.  F.  in 
the  environs  of  North  St.  Louis,  I  found  myself  once 
more  fairly  en  route,  winding  along  that  delightful 
road  which  sweeps  the  western  bottom  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi. Circumstances  not  within  my  control, 
Benedict  though  I  am,  had  recalled  me,  after  a  ram- 
ble of  but  a  few  weeks  over  the  prairies,  again  to  the 
city,  and  compelled  me  to  relinquish  my  original 
design  of  a  tour  of  the  extreme  Northwest.  Ah, 
the  despotism  of  circumstance !  My  delay,  how- 
ever, proved  a  brief,  though  pleasant  one  ;  and  with 
a  something  of  mingled  regret  and  anticipation  it 
was  that  I  turned  from  the  bright  eyes  and  dark 
locks  of  St.  Louis — "  forgive  my  folly" — and  once 
again  beheld  its  imposing  structures  fade  in  distance. 

By  far  the  most  delightful  drive  in  the  vicinity  of 
St.  Louis  is  that  of  four  or  five  miles  in  its  northern 
suburbs,  along  the  river  bottom .  The  road,  emerging 
from  the  streets  of  the  city  through  one  of  its  finest 
sections,  and  leaving  the  "Big  Mound"  upon  the 
right,  sweeps  off  for  several  miles  upon  a  succession 
of  broad  plateaux,  rolling  up  from  the  water's  edge. 
To  the  left  lies  an  extensive  range  of  heights,  sur- 
mounted by  ancient  mounds  and  crowned  with 


THE    FAR   WEST.  245 

groves  of  the  shrub-oak,  which  afford  a  delightful 
shade  to  the  road  running  below.  Along  this  ele- 
vated ridge  beautiful  country-seats,  with  graceful 
piazzas  and  green  Venitian  blinds,  are  caught  from 
time  to  time  glancing  through  the  shrubbery ;  while 
to  the  right,  smooth  meadows  spread  themselves 
away  to  the  heavy  belt  of  forest  which  margins  the 
Mississippi.  Among  these  pleasant  villas  the  little 
white  farm-cottage,  formerly  the  residence  of  Mr. 
C.,  beneath  the  hills,  surrounded  by  its  handsome 
grounds,  and  gardens,  and  glittering  fishponds,  par- 
tially shrouded  by  the  broad-leaped  eatalpa,  the 
willow,  the  acacia,  and  other  ornamental  trees, 
presents,  perhaps,  the  rarest  instance  of  natural 
beauty  adorned  by  refined  taste.  A  visit  to  this 
delightful  spot  during  my  stay  at  St.  Louis  informed 
me  of  the  fact  that,  within  as  well  as  abroad,  the 
hand  of  education  and  refinement  had  not  been  idle. 
Paintings,  busts,  medallions,  Indian  curiosities,  &c., 
&c.,  tastefully  arranged  around  the  walls  and  shelves 
of  an  elegant  library,  presented  a  feast  to  the  visiter 
as  rare  in  the  Far  West  as  it  is  agreeable  to  a  cul- 
tivated mind.  Near  this  cottage  is  the  intended  site 
of  the  building  of  the  St.  Louis  Catholic  University, 
a  lofty  and  commanding  spot.  A  considerable  tract 
was  here  purchased,  at  a  cost  of  thirty  thousand  dol- 
lars ;  but  the  design  of  removal  from  the  city  has  for 
the  present  been  relinquished.  Immediately  adjoin- 
ing is  situated  the  stately  villa  of  Colonel  O'Fallon, 
with  its  highly-cultivated  gardens  and  its  beautiful 
park  sweeping  off  in  the  rear.  In  a  very  few  years- 
this  must  become  one  of  the  most  delightful  spot* 


246  THE    FAR   WEST. 

in  the  West.  For  its  elegant  grounds,  its  green 
and  hot  houses,  and  its  exotic  and  indigenous  plants, 
it  is,  perhaps,  already  unequalled  west  of  Cincinnati. 
No  expense,  attention,  or  taste  will  be  wanting  to 
render  it  all  of  which  the  spot  is  capable. 

Leaving  the  Bottom,  the  road  winds  gracefully 
off  from  the  Mississippi,  over  the  hard  soil  of  the 
bluffs,  through  a  region  broken  up  by  sink-holes, 
and  covered  with  a  meager  growth  of  oaks,  with 
small  farms  at  intervals  along  the  route,  until  at 
length  the  traveller  finds  himself  at  that  beautiful 
spot  on  the  Missouri,  Belle  Fontaine,  fifteen  miles 
from  St.  Louis.  On  account  of  the  salubrity  and 
beauty  of  the  site,  an  army  cantonment  was  located 
here  by  General  Wilkinson  in  the  early  part  of  the 
present  century,  and  fortifications  consisting  of  pal- 
isade-work existed,  and  a  line  of  log-barracks  suffi- 
cient to  quarter  half  a  regiment.  Nothing  now  re- 
mains but  a  pile  of  ruins.  "  The  barracks  have 
crumbled  into  dust,  and  the  ploughshare  has  passed 
over  the  promenade  of  the  sentinel."  Jefferson 
Barracks,  in  the  southern  environs  of  the  city,  have 
superseded  the  old  fortress,  and  the  spot  has  been 
sold  to  a  company,  which  has  here  laid  off  a  town  ; 
and  as  most  of  the  lots  have  been  disposed  of,  and 
a  turnpike-road  from  St.  Louis  has  been  chartered, 
a  succeeding  tourist  may,  at  no  distant  period,  pen- 
cil it  in  his  notebook  "  a  flourishing  village."  Cold 
Water  Creek  is  the  name  of  a  clear  stream  which 
empties  itself  into  the  Missouri  just  above,  upon 
which  are  several  mill-privileges ;  and  from  the 
base  of  the  bluff  itself  gushes  a  fountain,  on  account 


THE    FAR    WEST.  247 

of  which  the  place  received  its  name  from  the 
French.  The  site  for  the  new  town  is  a  command- 
ing and  beautiful  one,  being  a  bold,  green  promon- 
tory, rising  from  the  margin  of  the  stream  about 
four  miles  above  its  confluence  with  the  Mississippi. 
The  view  developed  to  the  eye  of  the  spectator  from 
this  spot  on  a  fine  day  is  one  of  mingled  sublimity 
and  beauty.  For  some  miles  these  old  giants  of  the 
West  are  beheld  roaming  along  through  their  deep, 
fertile  valleys,  so  different  in  character  and  aspect 
that  one  can  hardly  reconcile  with  that  diversity 
the  fact  that  their  destiny  is  soon  to  become  one 
and  unchangeably  the  same.  And  then  comes  the 
mighty  "meeting  of  the  waters,"  to  which  no  pen 
can  hope  to  render  justice. 

There  is  a  singular  circumstance  related  of  the 
discovery  of  a  large  human  tooth  many  years  since 
at  Belle  Fontaine,  in  excavating  a  well,  when  at  the 
depth  of  forty  feet.  This  was  the  more  extraordi- 
nary as  the  spot  was  not  alluvion,  and  could  have 
undergone  no  change  from  natural  causes  for  centu- 
ries. Various  strata  of  clay  were  passed  through 
before  the  tooth  was  thrown  up ;  and  this  circum- 
stance, together  with  the  situation  of  the  place, 
would  almost  preclude  the  possibility  of  a  vein  of 
subterraneous  water  having  conveyed  it  to  the  spot. 
This  is  mysterious  enough,  certainly ;  but  the  fact 
is  authentic. 

Returning  at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees  with 
the  road  by  which  he  approaches,  a  ride  of  a  dozen 
miles  up  the  Missouri  places  the  traveller  upon  a 
bold  roll  of  the  prairie,  from  which,  in  the  beautiful 


248  THE   FAR   WEST. 

valley  below,  rising  above  the  forest,  appear  the  steep 
roofs  and  tall  chimneys  of  the  little  hamlet  of  Flor- 
issant. Its  original  name  was  St.  Ferdinand,  titular 
saint  of  its  church ;  and  though  one  of  the  most  ad- 
vanced in  years,  it  is  by  no  means  the  most  antique- 
looking  of  those  ancient  villages  planted  by  the  early 
French.  Its  site  is  highly  romantic,  upon  the  banks 
of  a  creek  of  the  same  name,  and  in  the  heart  of 
one  of  the  most  fertile  and  luxuriant  valleys  ever 
subjected  to  cultivation.*  The  village  now  embraces 
about  thirty  or  forty  irregular  edifices,  somewhat 
modernized  in  style  and  structure,  surrounded  by 
extensive  corn-fields,  wandering  flocks  of  Indian 
ponies,  and  herds  of  cattle  browsing  in  the  plain. 
Here  also  is  a  Catholic  Church,  a  neat  building  of 
brick,  with  belfry  and  bell  >  connected  with  which 
is  a  convent  of  nuns,  and  by  these  is  conducted  a 
Seminary  for  young  ladies  of  some  note.  This  in- 
stitution— if  the  Hibernian  hostess  of  the  little  inn 
at  which  I  dined  is  to  be  credited  in  her  statements 
—is  the  most  flourishing  establishment  in  all  the  re- 
gion far  and  near  f  and  "  ^educates  the  young  led- 
dies  in  everything  but  religion  !"  For  the  redoubt- 
able Tonishf.  wha  whilom  figured  so  bravely  on 
the  prairies  and  in  print^  I  made  diligent  inquiry. 
His  cottage — the  best  in  the  village — and  a  dirty 
little  brood  of  his  posterity,  were  pointed  out  to  me, 
but  the  old  worthy  himself  was,  as  usual,  in  the  re- 
gions of  the  Rocky  Mountains  :  when  last  seen,  he 
could  still  tell  the  stoutest  lie  with  the  steadiest  mus- 
cles of  any  man  in  the  village,  while  he  and  his 
*  This  valley  appears  to  have  beeji  the  bed  of  an  ancient  lake.. 


THE    FAR    WEST.  249 

hopeful  son  could  cover  each  other's  trail  so  nicely 
that  a  lynx-eye  would  fail  to  detect  them.  In  the 
vicinity  of  Florissant  is  a  settlement  called  Owen's 
Station,  formerly  the  site  of  a  stoccade  fort  for 
defence  against  the  Indians,  and  of  a  Spanish  station 
on  account  of  a  fine  fountain  in  the  vicinity. 

The  direct  route  from  St.  Louis  to  Florissant  is 
an  excellent  one,  over  a  high  rolling  prairie,  and 
commands  a  noble  sweep  of  scenery.  From  sev- 
eral elevated  points,  the  white  cliffs  beyond  the 
American  Bottom,  more  than  twenty  miles  distant, 
may  be  seen,  while  farmhouses  and  villas  are  be- 
held in  all  directions  gleaming  through  the  groves. 
Scenery  of  the  same  general  character  presents  it- 
self upon  the  direct  route  to  St.  Charles,  with  the 
exception  of  steeper  hills  and  broader  plains.  Upon 
this  route  my  path  entered  nearly  at  right  angles 
soon  after  leaving  the  French  village.  Upon  the 
right  shore  of  the  Missouri,  not  far  above  Florissant, 
is  situated  La  Charbonniere,  a  name  given  to  a  cel- 
ebrated coal-bank  in  a  bluff  about  two  hundred  feet 
in  altitude,  and  about  twice  as  long.  The  stratum 
of  coal  is  about  a  dozen  feet  in  thickness,  and  lies 
directly  upon  the  margin  of  the  river :  the  quantity 
in  the  bank  is  said  to  be  immense,  and  it  contains  an 
unusual  proportion  of  bitumen.  Iron  ore  has  also 
been  discovered  at  this  spot. 

The  road  over  the  Missouri  Bottom  was  detesta- 
ble, as  never  fails  to  be  the  case  after  a  continued 
rain-storm,  and  my  horse's  leg  sank  to  the  middle 
in  the  black,  unctuous  loam  almost  at  every  step. 
Upon  either  side,  like, colonnades,  rose  up  those 


250  THE    FAR   WEST. 

enormous  shafts  of  living  verdure  which  strike  the 
solitary  traveller  upon  these  unfrequented  bottoms 
with  such  awe  and  veneration;  while  the  huge 
whirls  of  the  writhing  wild-vine  hung  dangling,  like 
gigantic  serpents,  from  the  lofty  columns  around 
whose  capitals  they  clung.  On  descending  the 
bluffs  to  the  bottom,  the  traveller  crosses  a  bed  of 
limestone,  in  which  is  said  to  exist  a  fissure  per- 
fectly fathomless.  In  a  few  moments,  the  boiling, 
turbid  floods  of  the  Missouri  are  beheld  rolling  ma- 
jestically along  at  the  feet,  and  to  the  stranger's  eye, 
at  first  sight,  always  suggesting  the  idea  of  unusual 
agitation ;  but  so  have  they  rolled  onward  century 
after  century,  age  after  age.  The  wild  and  impet- 
uous character  of  this  river,  together  with  the  vast 
quantities  of  soil  with  which  its  waters  are  charged, 
impart  to  it  a  natural  sublimity  far  more  striking,  at 
first  view,  than  that  of  the  Mississippi.  This  cir- 
cumstance was  not  unobserved  by  the  Indian  tribes, 
who  appropriately  named  it  the  "  Smoky  Water ;" 
by  others  it  was  styled  the  "  Mad  River?  on  ac- 
count of  the  impetuosity  of  its  current ;  and  in  all 
dialects  it  is  called  the  "Mother  of  Floods?  indica- 
tive of  the  immense  volume  of  its  waters.  Various 
causes  have  been  assigned  for  the  turbid  character 
of  the  Missouri :  and  though,  doubtless,  heavily 
charged  by  the  volumes  of  sand  thrown  into  its  chan- 
nel by  the  Yellow  Stone — its  longest  tributary,  equal 
to  the  Ohio — and  by  the  chalky  clay  of  the  White 
River,  yet  we  are  told  that  it  is  characterized  by  the 
same  phenomenon  from  its  very  source.  At  the 
gates  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  where,  having  torn 


THE   FAR   WEST.  251 

for  itself  a  channel  through  the  everlasting  hills,  it 
comes  rushing  out  through  the  vast  prairie-plains  at 
their  base,  it  is  the  same  dark,  wild  torrent  as  at  its 
turbid   embouchure.     And,  strange   to  tell,   after 
roaming  thousands  of  miles,  and  receiving  into  its 
bosom  streams  equal  to  itself,  and  hundreds  of  less- 
er, though  powerful  tributaries,  it  still  retains,  unal- 
tered in  depth  or  breadth,  that  volume  which  at  last 
it  rolls  into  its  mighty  rival !     Torrent  after  torrent, 
river  after  river,  pour  in  their  floods,  yet  the  giant 
stream  rolls  majestically  onward  unchanged  !     At 
the  village  of  St.  Charles  its  depth  and  breadth  is 
the  same  as  at  the  Mandan  Tillages,  nearly  two 
thousand  miles  nearer  its  source.     The  same  inex* 
plicable  phenomenon  characterizes  the  Mississippi, 
and,  indeed,  all  the  great  rivers  of  the  West ;  for  in- 
explicable the  circumstance  yet  remains,  however 
plausible  the  theories  alleged  in  explanation.     With 
regard  to  the  Missouri,  it  is  urged  that  the  porous, 
sandy  soil  of  its  broad  alluvions  absorbs,  on  the  prin- 
ciple  of  capillary  attraction,  much  of  its  volume, 
conveying  it  by  subterraneous  channels  to  the  Mis- 
tissippi ;  and  of  this  latter  stream  it  is  asserted  that 
large  quantities  of  its  waters  are  taken  up  by  the 
innumerable  bayous,  lakes,  and  lagoons  intersect- 
ing the  lower  region  of  its  course ;  and  thus,  unper- 
ceived,  they  find  their  way  to  the  gulf. 

The  navigation  of  the  Missouri  is  thought  to  be 
the  most  hazardous  and  difficult  of  any  of  the  West- 
ern rivers,  owing  to  its  rnad>  impetuous  current,  to 
the  innumerable  obstructions  in  its  bed,  and  the  in- 
cessant variation  of  its  channel.*  Insurance  and  pi- 

*  See  Appendix. 


252  THE    FAR   WEST. 

lotage  upon  this  river  are  higher  than  on  others ; 
the  season  of  navigation  is  briefer,  and  steamers 
never  pursue  their  course  after  dusk.  Its  vast 
length  and  numerous  tributaries  render  it  liable, 
also,  to  frequent  floods,  of  which  three  are  expected 
every  year.  The  chief  of  these  takes  place  in  the 
month  of  June,  when  the  heaped-up  snows  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains  are  melted,  and,  having  flowed 
thousands  of  miles  through  the  prairies,  reach  the 
Mississippi.  The  ice  and  snows  of  the  Alleghanies, 
and  the  wild-rice  lakes  of  the  far  Upper  Mississippi, 
months  before  have  reached  their  destination,  and 
thus  a  general  inundation,  unavoidable  had  the  floods 
been  simultaneous,  is  prevented  by  Providence. 
The  alluvions  of  the  Missouri  are  said  to  be  higher 
than,  and  not  so  broad  as,  those  of  the  Mississippi ; 
yet  their  extent  is  constantly  varying  by  the  violence 
of  the  current,  even  more  than  those  of  the  latter 
stream.  Many  years  ago  the  flourishing  town  of 
Franklin  was  completely  torn  away  from  its  found- 
ations, and  its  inhabitants  were  forced  to  flee  to 
the  adjacent  heights ;  and  the  bottom  opposite  St. 
Charles  and  at  numerous  other  places  has,  within 
the  few  years  past,  suffered  astonishing  changes. 
Opposite  the  latter  town  now  flow  the  waters  of  the 
river  where  once  stood  farms  and  orchards. 

The  source  of  the  Missouri  and  that  of  the  Co- 
lumbia, we  are  told,  are  in  such  immediate  prox- 
imity, that  a  walk  of  but  a  few  miles  will  enable  the 
traveller  to  drink  from  the  fountains  of  each.  Yet 
how  unlike  their  destiny  !  One  passes  off  through 
a  region  of  boundless  prairie  equal  in  extent  to  a 


THE    FAR    WEST.  253 

sixth  of  our  globe ;  and,  after  a  thousand  wander- 
ings, disembogues  its  troubled  waters  into  the  Mexi- 
can Gulf;  the  other,  winding  away  towards  the  set- 
ting sun,  rolls  on  through  forests  untrodden  by  human 
footstep  till  it  sleeps  in  the  Pacific  Seas.  Their 
destinies  reach  their  fulfilment  at  opposite  extremes 
of  a  continent !  How  like,  how  very  like  are  the 
destinies  of  these  far,  lonely  rivers  to  the  destinies  of 
human  life !  Those  who,  in  the  beautiful  starlight 
of  our  boyhood,  were  our  schoolmates  and  playfel- 
lows, where  are  they  when  our  sun  of  ripened  ma- 
turity has  reached  its  meridian  ?  and  what,  and 
where  are  they  and  we,  when  evening's  lengthening 
shadows  are  gathering  over  the  landscape  of  life  ? 
Our  paths  diverged  but  little  at  first,  but  mountains, 
continents,  half  a  world  of  waters  may  divide  our 
destinies,  and  opposite  extremes  of  "the  great 
globe  itself"  witness  their  consummation.  Yet, 
like  the  floods  of  the  far-winding  rivers,  the  streams 
of  our  existences  will  meet  again,  and  mingle  in  the 
ocean — that  ocean  without  a  shore — ETERNI- 
TY > 

The  gates  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  through  which 
the  waters  of  the  Missouri  rush  forth  into  the  prai- 
ries of  the  great  Valley,  are  described  as  one  of  the 
sublimest  spectacles  in  nature.  Conceive  the  floods 
of  a  powerful  mountain-torrent  compressed  in  mid 
career  into  a  width  of  less  than  one  hundred  and 
fifty  yards,  rushing  with  the  speed  of  "the  wild 
horse's  wilder  sire"  through  a  chasm  whose  vast 
walls  of  Nature's  own  masonry  rear  themselves  on 
either  side  from  the  raging  waters  to  the  precipitous 

VOL.  I.— Y 


254  THE    FAR   WEST. 

height  of  twelve  hundred  perpendicular  feet;  and 
then  consider  if  imagination  can  compass  a  scene 
of  darker,  more  terrible  sublimity !  And  then 
sweep  onward  with  the  current,  and  within  one 
hundred  miles  you  behold  a  cataract,  next  to  Niag- 
ara, from  all  description  grandest  in  the  world. 
Such  are  some  of  the  mighty  features  of  the  stream 
upon  which  I  was  now  standing. 

As  to  the  much  disputed  question  which  of  the 
great  streams  of  the  West  is  entitled  to  the  name 
of  the  Main  River,  I  shall  content  myself  with  a 
brief  statement  of  the  arguments  alleged  in  support 
of  the  pretensions  of  either  claimant.  The  volume 
of  the  Missouri  at  the  confluence  far  exceeds  that 
of  its  rival ;  the  length  of  its  course  and  the  number 
and  magnitude  of  its  tributaries  are  also  greater,  and 
it  imparts  a  character  to  the  united  streams.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  Mississippi,  geographically  and  geo- 
logically considered,  is  the  grand  Central  River  of  the 
continent,  maintaining  an  undeviating  course  from 
north  to  south;  the  valley  which  it  drains  is  far 
more  extensive  and  fertile  than  that  of  the  Missouri ; 
and  from  the  circumstance  of  having  first  been  ex- 
plored, it  has  given  a  name  to  the  great  river  of  the 
Western  Valley  which  it  will  probably  ever  retain, 
whatever  the  right.  "  Sed  non  nostrum  tantas 
componere  lites" 

St.  Charles,  Mo. 


APPENDIX. 


A.  Page  20. 
LOUISVILLE  AND  PORTLAND  CANAL.     ^ 

IN  1804  the  Legislature  of  Kentucky  incorporated  a  company  to> 
cut  a  canal  around  the  falls.  Nothing  effectual,  however,  beyond 
surveys,  was  done  until  1825,  when  on  the  12th  of  January  of  that 
year  the  Louisville  and  Portland  Canal  Company  was  incorporated 
by  an  act  of  the  legislature,  with  a  capital  of  $600,000,  in  shares 
of  8100  each,  with  perpetual  succession.  3665  of  the  shares  of 
the  company  are  in  the  hands  of  individuals,  about  seventy  in 
number,  residing  in  the  following  stated  :  New- Hampshire,  Mas- 
sachusetts, New- York,  Pennsylvania,  Maryland,  Ohio,  Kentucky, 
and  Missouri,  and  2335  shares  belong  to  the  government  of  the 
United  States. 

In  December,  1825,  contracts  were  entered  into  to  complete 
the  work  of  this  canal  within  two  years,  for  about  $375,000,  and 
under  these  contracts  the  work  was  commenced  in  March,  1826. 
Many  unforeseen  difficulties  retarded  the  work  until  the  close  of 
the  year  1828.  At  this  time  the  contractors  failed  ;  new  contracts 
were  made  at  advanced  prices,  and  the  canal  was  finally  opened 
for  navigation  December  5th,  1830.  When  completed  it  cost 
about  $750,000.  Owing  to  the  advanced  season  at  which  it  was 
opened,  the  deposites  of  alluvial  earth  at  the  lower  extremity  of 
the  canal,  or  debouchure,  could  not  be  removed ;  and  also  from 
the  action  of  the  floods  during  the  succeeding  severe  winter  on 
the  stones  that  had  been  temporarily  deposited  on  the  sides  of  the 
canal,  causing  them  to  be  precipitated  into  the  canal,  it  was  not 
used  to  the  extent  that  it  otherwise  would  have  been.  During  the 
year  1831,  406  steamboats,  46  keelboats,  and  357  flatboats,  meas- 
uring 76,323  tons,  passed  through  the  locks,  which  are  about  one 
fourth  the  number  that  would  have  passed  if  all  the  obstructions 
had  been  removed. 

The  Louisville  and  Portland  Canal  is  about  two  miles  in  length ; 
is  intended  for  steamboats  of  the  largest  class,  and  to  overcome  a 
fall  of  24  feet,  occasioned  by  an  irregular  ledge  of  limerock, 
through  which  the  entire  bed  of  the  canal  is  excavated,  a  part  of  it, 
to  the  depth  of  12  feet,  is  overlaid  with  earth.  There  is  one  guard 
and  three  lift  locks  combined,  all  of  which  have  their  foundation 
an  the  rock.  One  bridge  o^stone  240  feet  long,  with  an  elevation 


256  APPENDIX. 

of  68  feet  to  top  of  the  parapet  wall,  and  three  arches,  the  centre 
one  of  which  is  semi-elliptical,  with  a  transverse  diameter  of  66, 
and  a  semi-conjugate  diameter  of  22  feet.  The  two  side  arches 
are  segments  of  40  feet  span.  The  guard  lock  is  190  feet  long  in 
the  clear,  with  semicircular  heads  of  26  feet  in  diameter,  50  feet 
wide,  and  42  feet  high,  and  contains  21,775  perches  of  mason- 
work.  The  solid  contents  of  this  lock  are  equal  to  15  common 
locks,  such  as  are  built  on  the  Ohio  and  New- York  canals.  The 
lift  locks  are  of  the  same  width  with  the  guard  lock,  20  feet  high, 
and  183  feet  long  in  the  clear,  and  contain  12,300  perches  of 
mason-work.  The  entire  length  of  the  walls,  from  the  head  of  the 
guard  lock  to  the  end  of  the  outlet  lock,  is  921  feet.  In  addition 
to  the  amount  of  mason-work  above,  there  are  three  culverts  to 
drain  off  the  water  from  the  adjacent  lands,  the  mason- work  of 
which,  when  added  to  the  locks  and  bridge,  give  the  whole 
amount  of  mason-work  41,989  perches,  equal  to  about  30  common 
canal  locks.  The  cross  section  of  the  canal  is  200  feet  at  top  of 
banks,  50  feet  at  bottom,  and  42  feet  high,  having  a  capacity  equal 
to  that  of  25  common  canals  ;  and  if  we  keep  in  view  the  unequal 
quantity  of  mason-work  compared  to  the  length  of  the  canal,  the 
great  difficulties  of  excavating  earth  and  rock  from  so  great  a 
depth  and  width,  together  with  the  contingencies  attending  its  con- 
struction from  the  fluctuations  of  the  Ohio  River,  it  may  not  be 
considered  as  extravagant  in  drawing  the  comparison  between  the 
work  in  this  and  in  that  of  70  or  75  miles  of  common  canalling. 

In  the  upper  sections  of  the  canal,  the  alluvial  earth  to  the  aver- 
age depth  of  twenty  feet  being  removed,  trunks  of  trees  were 
found  more  or  less  decayed,  and  so  imbedded  as  to  indicate  a  pow- 
erful current  towards  the  present  shore,  some  of  which  were  cedar, 
which  is  not  now  found  in  this  region.  Several  fireplaces  of  a 
rude  construction,  with  partially  burnt  wood,  were  discovered  near 
the  rock,  as  well  as  the  bones  of  a  variety  of  small  animals  and 
several  human  skeletons ;  rude  implements  formed  of  bone  and 
stone  were  frequently  seen,  as  also  several  well-wrought  specimens 
of  hematite  of  iron,  in  the  shape  of  plummets  or  sinkers,  displaying 
a  knowledge  in  the  arts  far  in  advance  of  the  present  race  of  In- 
dians. 

The  first  stratum  of  rock  was  a  light,  friable  slate,  in  close  con- 
tact with  the  limestone,  and  difficult  to  disengage  from  it ;  this 
slate  did  not,  however,  extend  over  the  whole  surface  of  the  rock, 
and  was  of  various  thicknesses,  from  three  inches  to  four  feet. 

The  stratum  next  to  the  slate  was  a  close,  compact  limestone, 
in  which  petrified  seashells  and  an  infinite  variety  of  coralline 
formations  were  imbedded,  and  frequent  cavities  of  crystalline  in- 
crustations were  seen,  many  of  which  still  contained  petroleum  of 
a  highly  fetid  smell,  which  gives  the  name  to  this  description  of 
limestone.  This  description  of  rock  is  on  an  average  of  five  feet, 
covering  a  substratum  of  a  species  of  cias  limestone  of  a  bluish 
colour,  imbedding  nodules  of  hornstone  and  organic  remains.  The 
fracture  of  this  stone  has  in  all  instances  been  found  to  Le  iriegu- 


APPENDIX.  257 

larly  conchoidal,  and  on  exposure  to  the  atmosphere  and  subjection 
to  fire,  it  crumbles  to  pieces.  When  burnt  and  ground,  and  mixed 
with  a  due  proportion  of  silicious  sand,  it  has  been  found  to  make 
a  most  superior  kind  of  hydraulic  cement  or  water-lime. 

The  discovery  of  this  valuable  limestone  has  enabled  the  canal 
company  to  construct  their  masonry  more  solidly  than  any  other 
known  in  the  United  States. 

A  manufactory  of  this  hydraulic  cement  or  water-lime  is  now 
established  on  the  bank  of  the  canal,  on  a  scale  capable  of  supplying 
the  United  States  with  this  much-valued  material  for  all  works  in 
contact  with  water  or  exposed  to  moisture ;  the  nature  of  this  ce- 
ment being  to  harden  in  the  water ;  the  grout  used  on  the  locks 
of  the  canal  is  already  harder  than  the  stone  used  in  their  con- 
struction. 

After  passing  through  the  stratum  which  was  commonly  called 
the  water-lime,  about  ten  feet  in  thickness,  the  workmen  came  to 
a  more  compact  mass  of  primitive  gray  limestone,  which,  however, 
was  not  penetrated  to  any  great  depth.  In  many  parts  of  the  ex- 
cavation masses  of  a  bluish  white  flint  and  hornstone  were  found  en- 
closed in  or  incrusting  the  fetid  limestone.  And  from  the  large  quan- 
tities of  arrow-heads  and  other  rude  formations  of  this  flint  stone, 
it  is  evident  that  it  was  made  much  use  of  by  the  Indians  in  form- 
ing their  weapons  for  war  and  hunting ;  in  one  place  a  magazine 
of  arrow-heads  was  discovered,  containing  many  hundreds  of  these 
rude  implements,  carefully  packed  together  and  buried  below  the 
surface  of  the  ground. 

The  existence  of  iron  ore  in  considerable  quantities  was  exhib- 
ited in  the  progress  of  the  excavation  of  the  canal,  by  numerous 
highly-charged  chalybeate  springs  that  gushed  out,  and  continued 
to  flow  during  the  time  that  the  rock  was  exposed,  chiefly  in  the 
apper  strata  of  limestone. — Louisville  Directory  for  1835. 

B.  Page  46. 

Since  the  remarks  relative  to  "  the  remarkable  cavern  in  the  vi- 
cinity of  Tower  Rock,  and  not  far  from  Hurricane  Island,"  were 
in  type,  the  subjoined  notice  of  a  similar  cave,  probably  the  same 
referred  to,  has  casually  fallen  under  my  observation.  The  reader 
will  recognise  in  this  description  the  outlines  of  Rock-Inn-Cave, 
previously  noticed.  It  is  not  a  little  singular  that  none  of  our 
party,  which  was  a  numerous  one,  observed  the  "  hieroglyphics'* 
here  alluded  to.  The  passage  is  from  Priest's  "  American  Anti- 
quities.1' 

"  A  Cavern  of  the  West,  in  which  are  found  many  interesting 
Hieroglyphics,  supposed  to  have  been  made  by  the  Ancient  Inhabi- 
tants. 

"  On  the  Ohio,  twenty  miles  below  the  mouth  of  the  Wabash,  is 
a  cavern  in  which  are  found  many  hieroglyphics  and  representa- 
tions of  such  delineations  as  would  induce  the  belief  that  their 
authors  were  indeed  comparatively  refined  and  civilized.  It  is  a 
cave  in  a  rock,  or  ledge  of  thV  mountain,  which  presents  itself  to 

Y  2 


258  APPENDIX. 

view  a  little  above  the  water  of  the  river  when  in  flood,  and  is 
situated  close  to  the  bank.  In  the  early  settlement  of  Ohio  this 
cave  became  possessed  by  a  party  of  Kentuckians  called '  Wilson's 
Gang.'  Wilson,  in  the  first  place,  brought  his  family  to  this 
cave,  and  fitted  it  up  as  a  spacious  dwelling  ;  erected  a  signpost 
on  the  water  side,  on  which  were  these  words  :  '  Wilson's  Liquor 
Vault  and  House  of  Entertainment.'  The  novelty  of  such  a  tav- 
ern induced  almost  all  the  boats  descending  the  river  to  call  for 
refreshments  and  amusement.  Attracted  by  these  circumstances, 
several  idle  characters  took  up  their  abode  at  the  cave,  after  which 
it  continually  resounded  with  the  shouts  of  the  licentious,  the 
clamour  of  the  riotous,  and  the  blasphemy  of  gamblers.  Out  of 
such  customers  Wilson  found  no  difficulty  in  forming  a  band  of 
robbers,  with  whom  he  formed  the  plan  of  murdering  the  crews  of 
every  boat  that  stopped  at  his  tavern,  and  of  sending  the  boats, 
manned  by  some  of  his  party,  to  New-Orleans,  and  there  sell  their 
loading  for  cash,  which  was  to  be  conveyed  to  the  cave  by  land 
through  the  States  of  Tennessee  and  Kentucky  ;  the  party  re- 
turning with  it  being  instructed  to  murder  and  rob  on  all  good  oc- 
casions on  the  road. 

"  After  a  lapse  of  time  the  merchants  of  the  upper  country  began 
to  be  alarmed  on  finding  their  property  make  no  returns,  and  their 
people  never  coming  back.  Several  families  and  respectable  men 
who  had  gone  down  the  river  were  never  heard  of,  and  the  losses 
became  so  frequent  that  it  raised,  at  length,  a  cry  of  individual  dis- 
tress and  general  dismay.  This  naturally  led  to  an  inquiry,  and 
large  rewards  were  offered  for  the  discovery  of  the  perpetrators  of 
such  unparalleled  crimes.  It  soon  came  out  that  Wilson,  with  an 
organized  party  of  forty-five  men,  was  the  cause  of  such  waste  of 
blood  and  treasure  ;  that  he  had  a  station  at  Hurricane  Island  to  ar- 
rest every  boat  that  passed  by  the  mouth  of  the  cavern,  and  that 
he  had  agents  at  Natchez  and  New-Orleans,  of  presumed  respecta- 
bility, who  converted  his  assignments  into  cash,  though  they  knew 
the  goods  to  be  stolen  or  obtained  by  the  commission  of  murder. 

"  The  publicity  of  Wilson's  transactions  soon  broke  up  his  party  ; 
some  dispersed,  others  were  taken  prisoners,  and  he  himself  was 
killed  by  one  of  his  associates,  who  was  tempted  by  the  reward 
offered  for  the  head  of  the  captain  of  the  gang. 

"  This  cavern  measures  about  twelve  rods  in  length  and  five  in 
width  ;  its  entrance  presents  a  width  of  eighty  feet  at  its  base  and 
twenty-five  feet  high.  The  interior  walls  are  smooth  rock.  The 
floor  is  very  remarkable,  being  level  through  the  whole  length  of 
its  centre,  the  sides  rising  in  stony  grades,  in  the  manner  of  seats 
in  the  pit  of  a  theatre.  On  a  diligent  scrutiny  of  the  walls,  it  is 
plainly  discerned  that  the  ancient  inhabitants  at  a  very  remote  pe- 
riod had  made  use  of  the  cave  as  a  house  of  deliberation  and  coun- 
cil. The  walls  bear  many  hieroglyphics,  well  executed,  and  some 
of  them  represent  animals  which  have  no  resemblance  to  any  now 
known  to  natural  history. 

44  This  cavern  is  a  great  natural  c^Tiosity,  as  it  is  connected  with 


APPENDIX.  259 

another  still  more  gloomy,  which  is  situated  exactly  above,  united 
by  an  aperture  of  about  fourteen  feet,  which,  to  ascend,  is  like 
passing  up  a  chimney,  while  the  mountain  is  yet  far  above.  Not 
long  after  the  dispersion  and  arrest  of  the  robbers  who  had  infested 
it,  in  the  upper  vault  were  found  the  skeletons  of  about  sixty  per- 
sons, who  had  been  murdered  by  the  gang  of  Wilson,  as  was  sup- 
posed. 

"  But  the  tokens  of  antiquity  are  still  more  curious  and  important 
than  a  description  of  the  mere  cave,  which  are  found  engraved  on 
the  sides  within,  an  account  of  which  we  proceed  to  give  : 

"  The  sun  in  different  stages  of  rise  and  declension  ;  the  moon 
under  various  phases  ;  a  snake  biting  its  tail,  and  representing  an 
orb  or  circle  ;  a  viper ;  a  vulture  ;  buzzards  tearing  out  the  heart 
of  a  prostrate  man  ;  a  panther  held  by  the  ears  by  a  child  ;  a  croc- 
odile ;  several  trees  and  shrubs  ;  a  fox ;  a  curious  kind  of  hydra 
serpent ;  two  doves  ;  several  bears ;  two  scorpions ;  an  eagle  ; 
an  owl ;  some  quails  ;  eight  representations  of  animals  which  are 
now  unknown.  Three  out  of  the  eight  are  like  the  elephant  in  all 
respects  except  the  tusk  and  the  tail.  Two  more  resemble  the 
tiger ;  one  a  wild  boar ;  another  a  sloth ;  and  the  last  appears  a 
creature  of  fancy,  being  a  quadruman  instead  of  a  quadruped ; 
the  claws  being  alike  before  and  behind,  and  in  the  act  of  convey- 
ing something  to  the  mouth,  which  lay  in  the  centre  of  the  mon- 
ster. Besides  these  were  several  fine  representations  of  men  and 
women,  not  naked,  but  clothed ;  not  as  the  Indians,  but  much  in. 
the  costume  of  Greece  and  Rome." 

C.  Page  75. 

The  following  extract  from  the  Journal  of  Charlevoix,  one  of  the 
earliest  historians  of  the  West,  with  reference  to  the  Mines  upon 
the  Merrimac,  may  prove  not  uninteresting.  The  work  is  a  rare 
one. 

"  On  the  17th  (Get.,  1721),  after  sailing  five  leagues  farther,  I 
left,  on  my  right,  the  river  Marameg,  where  they  are  at  present 
employed  in  searching  for  a  silver  mine.  Perhaps  your  grace  may 
not  be  displeased  if  I  inform  you  what  success  may  be  expected 
from  this  undertaking.  Here  follows  what  I  have  been  able  to  col- 
lect about  this  affair,  from  a  person  who  is  well  acquainted  with  it> 
and  who  has  resided  for  several  years  on  the  spot. 

"  In  the  year  1719,  the  Sieur  de  Lochon,  being  sent  by  the 
West  India  Company,  in  quality  of  founder,  and  having  dug  in  a 
place  which  had  been  marked  out  to  him,  drew  up  a  pretty  large 
quantity  of  ore,  a  pound  whereof,  which  took  up  four  days  in  smelt- 
ing, produced,  as  they  say,  two  drachms  of  silver ;  but  some  have 
suspected  him  of  putting  in  this  quantity  himself.  A  few  months 
afterward  he  returned  thither,  and,  without  thinking  any  more  of 
the  silver,  he  extracted  from  two  or  three  thousand  weight  of  ore 
fourteen  pounds  of  very  bad  lead,  which  stood  him  in  fourteen 
hundred  francs.  Disgusted  with  a  labour  which  was  so  unprofita- 
ble, he  returned  to  France.  \ 


260  APPENDIX. 

"  The  company,  persuaded  of  the  truth  of  the  indications  which 
had  been  given  them,  and  that  the  incapacity  of  the  founder  had 
been  the  sole  cause  of  their  bad  success,  sent,  in  his  room,  a  Span- 
iard called  Antonio,  who  had  been  taken  at  the  siege  of  Pensacola  ; 
had  afterward  been  a  galley-slave,  and  boasted  much  of  his  having 
wrought  in  a  mine  at  Mexico.  They  gave  him  very  considerable 
appointments,  but  he  succeeded  no  better  than  had  done  the  Sieur 
de  Lochon.  He  was  not  discouraged  himself,  and  others  inclined 
to  believe  that  he  had  failed  from  his  not  being  versed  in  the  con- 
struction of  furnaces.  He  gave  over  the  search  after  lead,  and 
undertook  to  make  silver ;  he  dug  down  to  the  rock,  which  was 
found  to  be  eight  or  ten  feet  in  thickness  ;  several  pieces  of  it 
were  blown  up  and  put  into  a  crucible,  from  whence  it  was  given 
out  that  he  extracted  three  or  four  drachms  of  silver ;  but  many 
are  still  doubtful  of  the  truth  of  this  fact. 

"  About  this  time  arrived  a  company  of  the  king's  miners,  under 
the  direction  of  one  La  Renaudiere,  who,  resolving  to  begin  with 
the  lead  mines,  was  able  to  do  nothing ;  because  neither  he  him- 
self nor  any  of  his  company  were  in  the  least  acquainted  with  the 
construction  of  furnaces.  Nothing  can  be  more  surprising  than  the 
facility  with  which  the  company  at  that  time  exposed  themselves 
to  great  expenses,  and  the  little  precaution  they  took  to  be  satis- 
fied of  the  capacity  of  those  they  employed.  La  Renaudiere  and 
his  miners  not  being  able  to  procure  any  lead,  a  private  company 
undertook  the  mines  of  the  Marameg,  and  Sieur  Renault,  one  of 
the  directors,  superintended  them  with  care.  In  the  month  of 
June  last  he  found  a  bed  of  lead  ore  two  feet  in  thickness,  run- 
ning to  a  great  length  over  a  chain  of  mountains,  where  he  has 
now  set  his  people  to  work.  He  flatters  himself  that  there  is  silver 
below  the  lead.  Everybody  is  not  of  his  opinion,  but  time  wilt 
discover  the  truth." 

D.  Page  81. 

"  That  the  Mississippi,  the  Missouri,  and,  indeed,  most  of  the 
great  rivers  of  the  West,  are  annually  enlarging,  as  progress  is 
made  in  clearing  and  cultivating  the  regions  drained  by  them, 
scarcely  admits  a  doubt.  Within  the  past  thirty  years,  the  width 
of  the  Mississippi  has  sensibly  increased  ;  its  overflows  are  more 
frequent,  while,  by  the  diminution  of  obstructions,  it  would  seem 
not  to  have  become  proportionally  shallow.  In  1750,  the  French 
settlements  began  upon  the  river  above  New-Orleans,  and  for 
twenty  years  the  banks  were  cultivated  without  a  levee.  Inunda- 
tion was  then  of  rare  occurrence  :  ever  since,  from  year  to  year, 
the  river  has  continued  to  rise,  and  require  higher  and  stronger 
embankments.  A  century  hence,  if  this  phenomenon  continues, 
what  a  magnificent  spectacle  will  not  this  river  present !  How 
terrific  its  freshets  !  The  immense  forest  of  timber  which  lies 
concealed  beneath  its  depths,  as  evinced  by  the  great  earthquakes  of 
1811,  demonstrates  that,  for  centuries',  the  Mississippi  has  occu- 
pied its  present  bed.  M 


APPENDIX.  261 

E.  Page  119. 

With  reference  to  the  human  footprints  in  the  rock  at  St.  Louis, 
I  h«ve  given  the  local  tradition.  Schoolcraft's  detailed  description, 
which  I  subjoin,  varies  from  this  somewhat.  The  print  of  a  hu- 
man foot  is  said  to  have  been  discovered,  also,  in  the  limestone  at 
Herculaneum.  Morse,  in  his  Universal  Geography,  tells  us  of  the 
tracks  of  an  army  of  men  and  horses  on  a  certain  mountain  in  the 
State  of  Tennessee,  fitly  named  the  Enchanted  Mountain. 

"  Before  leaving  Harmony,  our  attention  was  particularly  direct- 
ed to  a  tabular  mass  of  limestone,  containing  two  apparent  prints 
or  impressions  of  the  naked  human  foot.  This  stone  was  carefully 
preserved  in  an  open  area,  upon  the  premises  of  Mr.  Rappe,  by  whom 
it  had  previously  been  conveyed  from  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi, 
at  St.  Louis.  The  impressions  are,  to  all  appearance,  those  of  a 
man  standing  in  an  erect  posture,  with  the  left  foot  a  little  ad- 
vanced and  the  heels  drawn  in.  The  distance  between  the  heels, 
by  accurate  measurement,  is  six  and  a  quarter  inches,  and  between 
the  extremities  of  the  toes  thirteen  and  a  half.  But,  by  a  close 
inspection,  it  will  be  perceived  that  these  are  not  the  impressions 
of  feet  accustomed  to  the  European  shoe ;  the  toes  being  much 
spread,  and  the  foot  flattened,  in  the  manner  that  is  observed  in 
persons  unaccustomed  to  the  close  shoe.  The  probability,  there- 
fore, of  their  having  been  imparted  by  some  individual  of  a  race  of 
men  who  were  strangers  to  the  art  of  tanning  skins,  and  at  a  period 
much  anterior  to  that  to  which  any  traditions  of  the  present  race  of 
Indians  reaches,  derives  additional  weight  from  this  peculiar  shape 
of  the  feet. 

"In  other  respects,  the  impressions  are  strikingly  natural,  ex- 
hibiting the  muscular  marks  of  the  foot  with  great  precision  and 
faithfulness  to  nature.  This  circumstance  weakens  very  much 
the  supposition  that  they  may,  possibly,  be  specimens  of  antique 
sculpture,  executed  by  any  former  race  of  men  inhabiting  this  con- 
tinent. Neither  history  nor  tradition  has  preserved  the  slightest 
traces  of  such  a  people.  For  it  must  be  recollected  that,  as  yet, 
we  have  no  evidence  that  the  people  who  erected  our  stupendous 
Western  tumuli  possessed  any  knowledge  of  masonry,  far  less  of 
sculpture,  or  that  they  had  even  invented  a  chisel,  a  knife,  or  an 
axe,  other  than  those  of  porphyry,  hornstone,  or  obsidian. 

"  The  average  length  of  the  human  foot  in  the  male  subject  may, 
perhaps,  be  assumed  at  ten  inches.  The  length  of  each  foot,  in 
our  subject,  is  ten  and  a  quarter  inches  :  the  breadth,  taken  across 
the  toes,  at  right  angles  to  the  former  line,  four  inches ;  but  the 
greatest  spread  of  the  toes  is  four  and  a  half  inches,  which  dimin- 
ishes to  two  and  a  half  at  the  heel.  Directly  before  the  prints, 
and  approaching  within  a  few  inches  of  the  left  foot,  is  a  well-im- 
pressed and  deep  mark,  having  some  resemblance  to  a  scroll,  whose 
greatest  length  is  two  feet  seven  inches,  and  greatest  breadth 
twelve  and  a  half  inches. 

"  The  rock  containing  thesV  interesting  impressions  is  a  compact 
limestone  of  a  grayish-blue  c  >our.  It  was  originally  quarried  on 


262  APPENDIX. 

the  left  bank  of  the  Mississippi  at  St.  Louis,  and  is  a  part  of  the  ex- 
tensive range  of  calcareous  rocks  upon  which  that  town  is  built.  It 
contains  very  perfect  remains  of  the  encrinite,  echinite,  and  some 
other  fossil  species.  The  rock  is  firm  and  well  consolidated,  as 
much  so  as  any  part  of  the  stratum.  A  specimen  of  this  rock,  now 
before  us,  has  a  decidedly  sparry  texture,  and  embraces  a  mass  of 
black  blende.  This  rock  is  extensively  used  as  a  building  material 
at  St.  Louis.  On  parting  with  its  carbonic  acid  and  water,  it  be- 
comes beautifully  white,  yielding  an  excellent  quicklime.  Found- 
ations of  private  dwellings  at  St.  Louis,  and  the  military  works 
erected  by  the  French  and  Spaniards  from  this  material  sixty 
years  ago,  are  still  as  solid  and  unbroken  as  when  first  laid.  We 
cite  these  facts  as  evincing  the  compactness  and  durability  of  the 
stone — points  which  must  essentially  affect  any  conclusions  to  be 
drawn  from  the  prints  we  have  mentioned,  and  upon  which,  there- 
fore, we  are  solicitous  to  express  our  decided  opinion." 

F.  Page  213. 

"  In  the  year  1538,  Ferdinand  de  Soto,  with  a  commission  from 
the  Emperor  Charles  V.,  sailed  with  a  considerable  fleet  for  Amer- 
ica. He  was  a  Portuguese  gentleman,  and  had  been  with  Pizarro 
in  the  conquest  (as  it  is  called)  of  Peru.  His  commission  consti- 
tuted him  governor  of  Cuba  and  general  of  Florida.  Although  he 
sailed  from  St.  Lucar  in  1538,  he  did  not  land  in  Florida*  until 
May,  1539.  With  about  1000  men,  213  of  whom  were  provided 
with  horses,  he  undertook  the  conquest  of  Florida  and  countries  ad- 
jacent. After  cutting  their  way  in  various  directions  through 
numerous  tribes  of  Indians,  traversing  nearly  1000  miles  of  country, 
losing  a  great  part  of  their  army,  their  general  died  upon  the  banks 
of  the  Mississippi,  and  the  survivers  were  obliged  to  build  vessels 
in  which  to  descend  the  river ;  which,  when  they  had  done,  they 
sailed  for  Mexico.  This  expedition  was  five  years  in  coming  to 
nothing,  and  bringing  ruin  upon  its  performers.  A  populous  In- 
dian town  at  this  time  stood  at  or  near  the  mouth  of  the  Mobile,  of 
which  Soto's  army  had  possessed  themselves.  Their  intercourse 
with  the  Indians  was  at  first  friendly,  but  at  length  a  chief  was  in- 
sulted, which  brought  on  hostilities.  A  battle  was  fought,  in  which> 
it  is  said,  2000  Indians  were  killed  and  83  Spaniards."— [Drake's 
Book  of  the  Indians,  b.  iv.,  c.  3.] 

G.  Page  213. 

"  After  a  long  and  fatiguing  journey  through  a  mountainous  wilder- 
ness, in  a  westward  direction,  I  at  last,  from  the  top  of  an  eminence, 
saw  with  pleasure  the  beautiful  land  of  Kentucky.  *  *  *  It  was 
in  June  ;  and  at  the  close  of  day  the  gentle  gales  retired,  and  left 
the  place  to  the  disposal  of  a  profound  calm.  Not  a  breeze  shook 
the  most  tremulous  leaf.  I  had  gained  the  summit  of  a  command- 

*  "  So  called,  because  it  was  first  discovf  red  by  the  Spaniards  on  Palm-Sun- 
day, or,  as  the  most  interpret,  Easter-day,  T  hich  they  call  Pasqua- Florida,  and 
not,  as  Thenet  writeth,  for  the  flourishing»Verdure  thereof."— Purchas,  p.  7S&; 


APPENDIX.  263 

ing  ridge,  and,  looking  round  with  astonishing  delight,  beheld  the 
ample  plains,  the  beauteous  tracts  below.  *  *  *  Nature  was  here 
a  series  of  wonders  and  a  fund  of  delight.  Here  she  displayed  her 
ingenuity  and  industry  in  a  variety  of  flowers  and  fruits,  beautifully 
coloured,  elegantly  shaped,  and  charmingly  flavoured  ;  and  I  was 
diverted  with  innumerable  animals  presenting  themselves  continually 
before  my  view.  *  *  *  The  buffaloes  were  more  frequent  than  I 
have  seen  cattle  in  the  settlements,  browsing  on  the  leaves  of  the 
cane,  or  cropping  the  herbage  on  these  extensive  plains,  fearless 
because  ignorant  of  man." — [Narrative  of  Colonel  Daniel  Boone, 
from  his  first  arrival  in  Kentucky  in  1769,  to  the  year  1782.] 

H.  Page  251. 

The  following  extract  from  a  letter  dated  September,  1819,  ad- 
dressed by  Mr.  Austin  to  Mr.  Schoolcraft,  respecting  the  naviga- 
tion of  the  Missouri,  well  portrays  the  impetuous  character  of  that 
river.  It  shows,  too,  the  great  improvements  in  the  steam-engine 
during  the  past  twenty  years. 

"  I  regret  to  state  that  the  expedition  up  the  Missouri  to  the 
Yellow  Stone  has  in  part  failed.  The  steamboats  destined  for 
the  Upper  Missouri,  after  labouring  against  the  current  for  a  num- 
ber of  weeks,  were  obliged  to  give  up  the  enterprise.  Every  ex- 
ertion has  been  made  to  overcome  the  difficulty  of  navigating  the 
Missouri  with  the  power  of  steam  ;  but  all  will  not  do.  The  cur- 
rent of  that  river,  from  the  immense  quantity  of  sand  moving  down 
with  the  water,  is  too  powerful  for  any  boat  yet  constructed.  The 
loss  either  to  the  government  or  to  the  contractor  will  be  very 
great.  Small  steamboats  of  fifty  tons  burden,  with  proper  engines, 
would,  I  think,  have  done  much  better.  Boats  like  those  employed, 
of  twenty  to  thirty  feet  beam,  and  six  to  eight  feet  draught  of  wa- 
ter, must  have  uncommon  power  to  be  propelled  up  a  river,  every 
pint  of  whose  water  is  equal  in  weight  to  a  quart  of  Ohio  water, 
and  moves  with  a  velocity  hardly  credible.  The  barges  fixed  to 
move  with  wheels,  worked  by  men,  have  answered  every  expecta- 
tion ;  but  they  will  only  do  when  troops  are  on  board,  and  the  men 
can  be  changed  every  hour."  •  - 


END   OF   VOL.   I. 


\ 


UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS-URBANA 


1 1  in  1 1  inn  i  ii 

o  ri -4  4 />  ^VL'l'winiiiiiiiiiii  II 


